Lizzy Bennet and the Pompous Prat
by uprightcitizen
Summary: Lizzy Bennet is starting her sixth year at Hogwarts, and she's feeling pretty confident that it's going to be a good one. But she often fails to account for unexpected variables; in this case, the variables come in the form of her sister's new suitor, Charlie Bingley, and his friend who won't stop staring at Lizzy.
1. The Journey to Platform Nine and Three-q

**Brief author's note**: There will be a more extensive A/N at the end of the chapter, but for now I'd just like to say: this isn't, strictly speaking, a crossover with _Harry Potter_. It's just a Modern AU of _Pride and Prejudice_, taking place in Hogwarts. You probably don't _need_ to be familiar with _Harry Potter_ to read it, but it would certainly help. There are a lot _Harry Potter_ terms thrown around, and liking that story would make this one more enjoyable, I imagine.

Rating is for swearing. Mostly from Lizzy.

**Disclaimer**: Neither _Pride and Prejudice_ nor _Harry Potter_ belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for fun.

_Onward!_

Chapter One: The Journey to Platform Nine and Three-quarters

In the Gryffindor common room, there are a couple of big, comfy chairs right by the fireplace. In my first year at Hogwarts, I sat in one of these chairs, and a third year came over and tried to make me get out of it. When I wouldn't budge, he started making fun of my freckles; I suppose hoping to embarrass me into running away.

So I stood up, put the body-bind hex on him, bent over him and shoved my wand in his face, told him that wasn't the only place I was willing to shove it, and sat back down.

It was several minutes before one of his friends came over and took the hex off, but he didn't try to get me out of the chair again.

The moral of this story is that making fun of me is not going to get you anywhere. I care very little about negative criticism people direct towards me, probably owing mostly to my mother's influence.

To clarify, I do not mean this as any compliment to her; I mean that since I was a child she has spent so much time criticizing my appearance, personality, habits, and feelings, that I had no choice but to become impervious to it.

"Merlin, Lizzy, can't you brush your hair?"

See? The second I walked into the kitchen, she started right in on me.

Lydia and Kitty sniggered as mom abandoned the pancakes (the pans were doing most of the work themselves, anyway) to come scrutinize my appearance. It usually takes her at least thirty seconds to start this; she must be feeling "anxious" today. September First does that to her.

"I _did, _mum, it's just _like_ this."

I pried my hair out of her grasp and walked to the table, hoping she wouldn't notice that I was wearing _"those dreadful, saggy shorts" _of mine.

"I think your hair looks very pretty today, Lizzy," Jane smiled serenely as she arranged the silverware. Mom had recruited her to set the table today, which explained why it had been Lydia's job to wake me up. And Lydia was not nearly as friendly about it (_"Lizzy, if you aren't downstairs in five minutes mom's disowning you!" "If you shout in my ear one more time I will curse your mouth off!")._

"Thank you, Jane," I pretended to primp my hair at her, making the kissy face that Lydia and Kitty were so fond of.

Jane is probably one of the few people in the world who would call my frizzy, curly, perpetually messy dark hair _pretty. _She's basically an angel.

I'm not exaggerating, I swear. Angelic is probably the only accurate way to describe my twin sister. Looking at the two of us, there was very little indication - besides identical cheek dimples and the same nose - that the two of us came out of the same womb, much less at the same time. Everything about her seemed to stand in direct contrast to me. Blue eyes; a tall, thin body; light freckles across her nose that were _much_ cuter than mine. Her straight, shiny blonde hair basically _flowed_ delicately around her shoulders. This might lead you to believe that she was being condescending when she complimented my hair, which was just thrown up haphazardly in a ponytail, but Jane does not have a condescending bone in her body. She's all sweet sincerity.

Jane had put the last plate on the table just as mom sent the pancakes flying over. Taking her seat next to me, she began combing her fingers over my ponytail, trying to smooth it out, despite her profession that it was already pretty.

If we were in our room she would probably be trying to put bows in it.

"_I _hope we're going to talk about something besides our appearances this morning."

"What would _you_ have us talk about, Mary?" Lydia asked very sarcastically, as she rolled her eyes. Girl is stealing all my moves; sarcasm and eye-rolling are both _my_ things.

"Quick, think of the most boring thing you can!" Kitty giggled, and Lydia practically screamed (which was her usual manner of speaking): "The most boring thing? Mary, of course!"

Mary side-eyed the two younger girls as they cackled, but only gave a long-suffering sigh and asked our father for a page of his newspaper, as we were _clearly_ not going to have any rational discussion this morning.

Dad folded down the _Daily Prophet_, which he had previously been hiding behind at the end of the table, and swept his eyes around the room. The newspaper still hid the lower half of his face, but when his eyes met mine, I could tell he was smirking.

"Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Lizzy. I trust your captain's badge is as shiny as ever?"

"I wasn't shining my badge, Dad –"

"That's more Mary's domain!" Lydia snorted. "At least Lizzy doesn't _wear_ her badge around the house."

Mary was indeed wearing her Prefect badge over her shirt, and she straightened up proudly, determined not to be affected by Lydia's remarks. The middle Bennet was starting her fifth year at Hogwarts, and had received her Ravenclaw Prefect badge at the same time I received my Quidditch captain badge, which was resting in my pocket.

"Lizzy and Mary both deserve their badges," Jane observed. "And they're right to be pleased with the honor that comes with them."

"Thank you, Jane," Mary smiled proudly. "Just because _you_ are unlikely to ever be bestowed with such an honor, Lydia –"

"Hex me if that happens!" Lydia guffawed, and she and Kitty giggled together, now too lost in making fun of the Prefects to pay attention to the rest of the conversation.

Well, if my mother prattling on with virtually no interruption can be called a conversation.

"Being a Prefect certainly is an honor, and I do not understand why _Jane_ was never made a Prefect."

Before I could repeat my oft-stated opinion, that Jane was far too kind to ever even think of getting anyone into trouble (the chief office of a Prefect), mom continued.

"Though why Lizzy was not made a Prefect is perfectly obvious. Honestly, Lizzy, your _obsession_ with _that_ sport I will never understand ."

There appeared to be a great many things she didn't understand.

"And now that you've been made a captain I don't see how we're _ever_ going to tear you away from it. If you spent half as much of your time studying as you do on that broom, you could have grades as good your sister. Honestly, you two are _twins_, I shall never understand how you can be _so _different. I am sure _Jane_ would never think of dedicating all her free time to that sport."

"Quidditch is not _that sport_, mum, it's _the_ sport, and I'm going to –"

"Quidditch this, Quidditch that, how _can_ you be so interested in it? None of your other sisters are. It's that _house_ of yours, all Gryffindors care about is that sport. Yes, that is the only explanation, none of your other sisters are in Gryffindor and none of _them_ play Quidditch, you know."

Of course I knew. Even if it had initially escaped my notice, my mother's pointing it out to me at every opportunity would certainly have impressed the point on my mind by this time.

"And you and Jane are _sixteen_ now, how you can never have brought a boyfriend home yet I shall-"

"Don't you think, my dear," my father interrupted, finally folding up the _Prophet_, "That we had best be getting on our way?"

Mom's eyes widened comically as she looked at the clock on the wall, and I barely got my hands to my ears in time.

She can scream in the highest pitched voice I have ever heard a human being achieve.

"Oh, John, the _time_! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Suddenly a flurry of anxious movement, she stood up quickly, waved her wand and did away with all the dishes, though most of us were still eating. "Girls, hurry up and get your shoes on! It's already past ten o'clock, you're going to miss the train!"

I practically ran out of the room, mom still screeching loudly, pots and pans banging against the walls due to her over-enthusiastic wand work.

"She doesn't mean it, Lizzy," Jane whispered to me, as we and the rest of our sisters were putting on our shoes in the living room. "If she really understood how much Quidditch means to you, I'm sure she wouldn't be so against it."

"She knows_ exactly_ how much Quidditch means to me, that's why she hates it so much," I laughed more bitterly than I meant to. "It doesn't matter, Jane, honestly. If mom has any hope of me being dissuaded from playing Quidditch because she doesn't approve of it, she is clearly not familiar with my personality."

I had naively hoped that in the considerable chaos of our leaving the house, mom would be distracted from her boyfriend speech, but maybe I wasn't familiar enough with _her_ personality, because this hope clearly underestimated her.

After we had all piled into the van, and she had exhausted her usual epithet against "these muggle contraptions", she got right back on track. And even though Lydia was only just thirteen, mom included all of her daughters in her lectures on getting boyfriends.

"A lot of people meet their future husbands at Hogwarts, you know. It's where I met your father. Lydia, Kitty, you are not too young to start thinking about these things! Before you all know it, your school days will be over, and with so many people already matched up, there won't be many good men to choose from!"

Jane listened politely as mom continued her rant. I slumped in my seat and stared out the window. Mary was hunched forward, trying to discretely shine her Prefect badge. Kitty and Lydia, seated farthest back, didn't even put up a pretense of listening, and were instead flipping through the new edition of the magazine _Witch Weekly_ that Kitty had brought in her purse.

"Girls, are you _quite certain_ that you never heard anything of the Bingley boy?"

"I'm pretty sure, mum," Jane answered. Despite all of us having repeated this nearly every day for the past month, Jane didn't appear impatient. I marvel at her composure. She got all the patience in the gene pool, I'm sure, which is why the rest of us were left with so little.

"Nonetheless, I'm sure you will meet him this year! With as much attention as his family name has gotten this summer, there's no doubt that he'll be known. Just think! Coming in to _all_ that money!"

I would have thought that even mom would be tired of talking about the Bingley family by now. She had been on about them for half the summer.

Louis and Carla Bingley, a married couple, had recently designed a line of cauldrons that were not only cheap, but extremely durable, and they solved some long standing debate about international regulations on cauldron thickness by basically monopolizing the market. Blah, blah, blah. Business language.

Not that any of _that_ mattered to my mother. Hell, the only reason _I_ knew it was because I had gotten bored one day and read the _Prophet_. No, what mattered to my mother was the _money._ The Bingleys, due to this recent success, obviously now had a great deal of money rolling in, and as the name of the cauldron brand was "Bingley", they could hardly escape the popularity that would come with it. What's more, they apparently had children, at least one of them – gasp! - a _male_, who went to Hogwarts. And according to the intelligence (read: gossip) from my mother's sister, that male was about our age.

Nothing could have excited mom more.

"I can't _believe_ none of you know who he is!"

_Not everyone at Hogwarts knows everyone else, mom, there are hundreds of freaking kids there._

"I'm _sure_ he's a most delightful young man, especially since this is _new_ money, so he won't have been spoiled by it yet."

_You seem remarkably sure of the personality of a person you've never met._

"And _hopefully_ he doesn't have a girlfriend, so one of you can get him. Jane, dear, you are by far the most likely to get a boyfriend this year, you are so _sweet_, and boys like that, you know. If _only_ we knew what house the boy was in, that would help you a great deal –"

"Oh, _I _know what house he's in, mum!" Lydia boasted suddenly from the backseat.

"What?" Mom turned around in her seat to grin at her youngest daughter. "Do you _really? _Quick, honey, _tell_ us! Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I only just remembered that I knew! Harriet told me last week! He's in…"

Here she paused for a moment, smiling widely as she looked around at us, clearly hoping she had created suspense. She succeeded with mom. Kitty must have already known, since she just smiled along with her.

"Out with it, Lydia dear!" Mom waved her on, but she was still grinning.

"He's in… Hufflepuff!" She said this primarily to Jane.

I groaned inwardly; if mom had been harping on Jane the most _before_, it was going to be nothing to now.

"Hufflepuff! Oh, Jane, did you hear that? The same House as you! Oh, could this be more perfect? Jane, are you quite sure you don't know him?"

"No, mum," Jane looked genuinely sorry at having to disappoint mom in this. Bless her heart.

"But he's in your house! You must have seen in him in the Common Room!"

"I'm sure I have _seen_ him, but didn't know who he was. We must be in different years, because I'm positive I know every sixth year in Hufflepuff."

"Well, this is just _perfect,"_ mom continued to gush. "Hopefully he's a seventh year! You need an older boy, Jane, since you're so mature."

What if he's a first year? I wonder how young mom would be willing to stoop for her daughter to get a boyfriend.

"Make sure to pay attention to everyone in your common room this year, dear –"

"We're not even sure he's in Hufflepuff, mum," I said impatiently, because I could see Jane was getting a little uncomfortable with all the attention directed at her.

"Do you doubt my sources, Lizzy?" Lydia asked archly. "I'm _telling_ you, Harriet had it from Maria, and _you_ know Maria's father always has the most accurate news."

"And yet he couldn't tell her what year he's in," Kitty snorted.

"I didn't say he knew _everything._"

"I didn't say you said he knew everything!"

"Girls! Why do you insist on provoking me with your arguing?" Mom shouted from the front seat, and Kitty, who sat right behind me, mumbled "It's not about _you_." But luckily I was the only one who heard her.

By some miracle (or Dad having swerved slightly at her sudden yelling), mom was finally distracted from the Bingley topic, and she got back on my father's "absurd muggle habits."

Dad is a Muggle-born, and he still insisted on doing a lot of things the muggle way. He even used a phone sometimes, instead of owls.

"A car is the most convenient way to get to King's Cross from our house, dear."

"Yes, I suppose, but they are so _dangerous_. I don't see how muggles come up with such absurd ways of travelling."

"Well, magical ways aren't so much better," I said. "Remember that man who left behind both eyes and an ear when he apparated to London last week? You could see the empty eye sockets. Had to tell the muggles who saw him that he was in a chemical accident."

"Lizzy," Jane groaned, covering her ears. "Gross."

"I don't see why they didn't just erase their memories," Lydia leaned forward, putting her head on Jane's seat and started playing with her hair. Kitty annoyingly followed with mine. "Seems much easier."

"It's inhumane if it can be avoided," Jane explained.

"I think _I'd_ want to forget, if I saw that."

"You're such an airhead you'd probably forget anyway –"

"_You're_ such a snob, Lizzy, you're starting to sound like Mary."

"Just because I prefer books to your idle pursuit of boys and gossip –"

"_Idle pursuit of boys and gossip," _Kitty and Lydia mimicked in high pitched voices.

"Very mature, you little –"

"GIRLS! Stop squabbling! You're going to send me to my grave!"

Due to the speed of dad's driving, which was probably more to get out of that car as soon as possible than to get us there on time, we got to King's Cross station with fifteen minutes to spare.

"Come on, girls, we're going to have to hurry if we want time to get the annual picture!"

I think mom was the only one who wanted that, but we all obediently hurried out of the car anyway. Almost the second we stepped out, I was assaulted with the sound of train whistles blowing and cars passing and a huge crowd of people buzzing about in a hurry, and I felt that rush of excitement that I should have been used to, after having done this five times already. But walking into King's Cross station always felt like a beginning. For a brief moment, the sounds of my sisters' renewed arguing faded, and I fixed my eyes on the train station that was going to take me to my real home.

From Jane's happy sigh next to me, I gathered that she felt the same way; we shared a grin as we put our trunks and owls on trolleys, and pushed on ahead of everyone else, walking quickly towards platforms 9 and 10.

I was mostly able to tune out my mother's loud tirade about how noisy our owls were (she always _was_ unintentionally ironic), and look around at all the muggles rushing about. The train station was such an odd sort of limbo; people didn't come here to stay, they came here to get somewhere else. Everyone had such similar and yet such different reasons for being here, and I don't quite know why that thought gave me such an excited feeling, but it did.

"Lizzy, can you not shut that thing up?" Mom hissed loudly in my ear, ruining my philosophic reverie.

"She doesn't like noise, mom, there's not much I can do," I defended my owl. "It's ok, Thelia, we'll be out of here soon," I cooed at her, giving her a treat from my pocket. Should shut up her squawking for at least ten seconds.

Jane's owl, Pegasus, was glaring at Thelia from his cage. He tucked his snowy head under his wing, as if to further emphasize the fact that _he_ wasn't making any noise.

Even Jane's _owl_ is the good one.

We reached the barriers between platforms nine and ten just as two people were charging for it. I watched, always fascinated, as they ran headlong towards the solid brick wall, and then disappeared when they reached it.

"Ok, Jane, Lizzy, you go first," dad directed. Mom was busy fusing with Lydia's skirt, which she had just noticed was riding up rather high. I heard her telling Lydia something stupid about getting milk for free, then Jane and I ran, pushing our trolleys in front of us, straight for the wall between the platforms.

I instinctively closed my eyes as we approached the brick wall, and when I opened them a second later, we had made it across.

Gone was the bustling, crowded muggle world of King's Cross station, and here was the bustling, crowded world of platform nine and three quarters; filled with students greeting their friends after months apart, parents _preparing_ for months apart, loud laughter and talking and the occasional blast of color from the rogue wand. And sitting in the backdrop was the Hogwarts Express, the train where we would be spending the majority of the day.

"Oh, Lizzy, aren't you so glad to be back?" Jane sighed, smiling in her usual content manner as she took in the surroundings.

"Jane, I am _ecstatic." _

Our calm happiness was disrupted very quickly, though.

"Out of the way, nerds!" Lydia yelled as she and Kitty barreled past us, screaming in glee as they saw some of their friends gathered near the train.

"Thank goodness we won't be sleeping across the hall from those two anymore."

Jane just shook her head at their "antics", and we waited for the rest of our family to run through the barrier. Mary went right off to the bathrooms to change into her robes ("The Prefects are expected to be in their robes for the train meeting," she was kind enough to inform us, for the third time that day), and when she got back we headed to the train.

To my dismay, I soon realized that my mother was far from being the only one who couldn't stop talking about the Bingleys. I overheard at least three conversations about them on the very short walk to the Hogwarts Express, and two of them seemed to center around the son, who was apparently "dreamy."

I didn't even know people still used that word.

"Those poor people," I remarked to Jane, as we stood in front of the train, and our parents searched for Lydia and Kitty in the crowd. "All they did was make some fu – freaking cauldrons, and now they're all anyone can talk about."

Jane looked perturbed; she couldn't decide whether to agree with my assessment of the Bingleys' misfortune, or defend the rest of the wizarding world for talking about them.

She was saved the trouble of having to decide by the appearance of Kitty and Lydia, and mom lined us up for the annual before school picture.

"No, Lydia, we do it in order of age, you can't be in the middle – yes I know dear, but it's tradition – Lizzy, quit slouching! You're already the shortest, you'll look ridiculous if you get much lower. Kitty, fix your bangs, they've separated."

Dad, exasperated, finally coaxed the camera from mom and took the picture himself.

"Say 'cheese'."

"What? Why?"

Lydia's protests were lost in the rest of us obediently chorusing the word.

"Now, girls, remember to behave yourselves," mom began as she went down the line, hugging each of us in turn. "But of course have fun, too." She directed this last part with a smile at Lydia and Kitty, the two she least needed to remind. "Mary, I'm sure you will be an excellent Prefect."

Here she got teary eyed. "Lizzy, darling, do _try_ to study harder this year."

She smiled at me so affectionately that I almost resolved to listen to her, but my father's wink luckily snapped me out of _that_.

"Jane, study hard, as you always do, but don't forget to pay some attention to boys as well!"

Dad followed mom down the line, giving us each a kiss on the forehead.

"You'll make a wonderful captain, Lizzy," he mumbled, giving me one of his rare, true smiles. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, dad," I said, proud that I'd kept my voice even, though I felt slightly chocked up. I might not miss much from home, but I _would_ miss my father.

Mom seemed ready to go into another speech, but the train whistle suddenly blew loudly behind us, and the last people left on the platform started to board. So instead, she just pulled us into one last group hug, and we all escaped just in time to hop on the train as the doors were starting to close.

"Goodbye girls!" Mom yelled after we stuck our heads out of the nearest available windows. The train started pulling away, and several other parents were gathered near it, yelling goodbyes at their own children. But even though this, and the train loudly chugging along, created considerable noise, we had no trouble hearing our mother's voice above it.

"Behave yourselves! We'll see you at Christmas! Don't forget what I told you about boyfriends-"

We continued to wave as the train moved slowly away from the platform. I just saw dad put an arm around mom, who was crying in earnest now, before we rounded a corner, and then the platform was out of sight.

* * *

**A/N:** 1. I'm going to assume audience knowledge for _Harry Potter_, so I won't be explaining things about Hogwarts that were stated in the book, but if you have any questions feel free to message me!

2. If you disagree with my sorting choices, keep in mind that I have to change the characters slightly from their book originals, since this is 200 years later, and your idea of how modern times will have affected them may be different than mine, though of course I try to keep them in character. If you want to hear my reasoning for a character's House, again feel free to message me! I'll tell you as long as it doesn't contain spoilers.

3. This is a work in progress. I should be able to update around once a week, and I'm anticipating about 25 chapters.

4. Thank you for reading! Reviews/constructive criticism appreciated!


	2. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

_Notes at the end_.

Chapter Two: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

"What about this one?"

"I'm not sitting with a bunch of first years, Jane."

"Fine. Look there's only a couple people –"

"That's Billy Collins! Move away from the window before he sees us! Go, go! This one's empty, quick!"

I shoved Jane into the second to last compartment on the train and closed the door quietly. Anxiously pressing my face against the window, I scanned the corridor.

"I don't think we were followed…"

"Lizzy, you're being a tad over-dramatic."

"I'm telling you, he can sense when we're near."

"Well, since we weren't followed, clearly you're wrong."

"Because I had us run before his senses could activate."

Jane deigned no reply, just continued shoving our trunks into the overhead compartments.

Once we were settled in and our trunks were stored, Thelia finally stopped squawking and went to sleep. I knew this period of peace was going to be short-lived. Mary had gone to the Prefects compartment as soon as the platform was out of sight, and Kitty and Lydia were off like a shot to find the compartment with the cutest boys in it. So Jane and I went off to find an empty one for ourselves, and it was quiet now, but the little menaces would be back soon enough.

I considered using this brief period of calm to get some reading done, since I was in the middle of a really suspenseful chapter (the heroine had just discovered the charm that would open the secret room), but Jane struck up a conversation about our new classes.

Talking to my sister was better than reading... even though I really wanted to know what's in that room.

"You're taking Transfiguration, right Lizzy?"

"Of course." _I'm pretty sure it's gonna be plans for her murder._

"I think you have that with the Slytherins this year. But we'll have Charms together!"

"I think so too." _Because I do not trust the dude who owns that mansion. He's up to something._

"I know you don't like Divination, but I wish you had taken the class this year, I'd feel much more confident if you were there with me."

"Robinson is such a phony, I don't know why you're so afraid of him, Jane." _It's not like people have secret rooms for _good_ reasons._

"He's so severe, I don't work well under pressure."

"You'll get an O just like you always do; don't worry Miss ten O.W.L.S." _And all that talk of young women disappearing around the country, it has to be murder._

"But we're in N.E.W.T classes now! They're going to be much more difficult."

"I told you to take fewer classes." _Unless that's too obvious? Maybe it's being purposely misleading._

"Maybe I should start studying now…"

"No, you – yes, that's a good idea! I'll read while you study!"

Turns out they _were_ plans for murder, just not the heroine's. The dude who owns the mansion was under cover for the Auror division, and the secret room was full of tactical papers and plans for how to capture the Dark Wizard who had been using the Imperious Curse to lure women into elaborate deaths and the hero had just set off after a lead when the heroine discovered that it was a trap and now she's running after him and –

"Give it back!"

"No! Run, Kitty!"

"You little brats! Give it back!"

"Ugh!" I slammed my book shut and smacked my head with it. I could hear the voices of my sisters in the corridor, and I knew them too well to doubt that they'd be ruining our peace.

"Lizzy, don't hit yourself," Jane gently pried the book away from my hands before I could slam my head down on it again. Then the door to our compartment slid open so violently I'm surprised it didn't shatter, and the rest of the Bennet sisters came charging in.

"Jane! Lizzy! Mary is trying to murder us!" Lydia giggled as she and Kitty jumped up on the seats, practically falling on top of Jane. Mary jumped up after them, and Lydia held her fist up over her head.

"These two immature children stole my Prefect badge!" Mary's voice was approaching an extremely annoying whine, as she grabbed for the badge in vain.

Lydia had grown up fast, in looks and height, though not maturity. She was almost the tallest of all of us; only Jane was taller. Not that it's much of a feat, since we're rather short as a group, but her comparative height did come in handy in situations like this, and in her frequent attempts to look older than she was.

"I have no idea what she's talking about!" Lydia could barely get the words out, she was laughing so hard, and I drew my wand out of my pocket, half intending to curse her mouth shut, when Jane saw me and gave me that disapproving look.

I sighed loudly.

"_Accio_ badge!"

The badge went flying out of Lydia's hand and into mine. I smiled triumphantly, thankful that Kitty and Lydia hadn't learned the summoning charm yet.

"No fair, Lizzy!" Lydia stomped her foot and hopped off the seat.

I gave Mary her badge back, and she took it haughtily.

"You aren't supposed to use magic outside Hogwarts, Lizzy."

"You're welcome, Mary!" I shouted, as she legitimately _strutted_ out of the compartment with her nose in the air. Everybody knows that they don't enforce that stupid rule anymore.

Lydia and Kitty stayed a little longer, talking only to each other, but loudly enough to keep me from concentrating on anything else. Thankfully they left soon, once Kitty brought up that they hadn't seen some guy named Denny yet today, and they ran off to find him.

"Thank _Merlin_," I slumped back in my seat.

I did welcome their interruption for one reason, though; Mary's presence meant that the Prefect meeting had let out, which meant –

The compartment door slid open once more, but this time the person behind it was much more welcome.

"Charlotte!"

"Lizzy!"

"Hey, Charlotte!"

"Hi, Jane!"

"Jane!"

"Lizzy!" Jane laughed as I let go of Charlotte and went to hug her instead.

"You're not cute, Lizzy," Charlotte rolled her eyes playfully as she sat down.

She was already in her robes, her Prefect badge just as shiny as Mary's, but less new, and with a silver snake emblazoned on it instead of an eagle.

Charlotte Lucas, Keeper on the Slytherin Quidditch team and Prefect Extraordinaire, was my best friend besides Jane. Her short brown hair was magically dyed purple at the ends and pulled up into a ponytail. I called her a hipster when I wanted to get on her nerves, which was often. She wore thick-framed glasses and spiky earrings, and she said this wasn't enough reason for me to call her a hipster, and that I clearly did not understand what the term meant.

But if she doesn't want me to call her that, she shouldn't look so funny when she gets riled up.

"How was the Prefect meeting?" I asked once she had settled in.

"It was fine," Charlotte answered. "Is your mum still going on about that Bingley guy?"

"Lizzy, mum does not _go on –"_

"Yes, ugh, she wants us all the marry him in some sort of sister harem."

"Then you better hope she doesn't hear about this… He's a prefect."

"Noooooooooooo! Tell me he's not –"

"He's in seventh year."

"The bastard!"

"Lizzy!"

"And he's in Hufflepuff."

"Dammit, Lydia was right. Sorry, Jane."

(I generally try not to use cuss words in front of Jane, but I slip. A lot.)

"So, what's he like?" I asked eagerly, after I had finished silently cursing him for being exactly what my mother wanted him to be.

"Well, I had talked to him a couple times last year," Charlotte began. "But now that he's a big, important person I paid more attention, because I'm a shallow bitch."

I laughed, but Jane, who hated the idea of anyone thinking poorly of themselves, said, "It's natural to be curious."

"He's really cute," Charlotte continued. "And I hate to break it to you, Lizzy, but he's just Jane's type. Tall and thin, messy red hair, a crooked smile. He's like a _Witch Weekly_ cover come to life. Super nice too."

"I hate him."

"Lizzy!"

"Well, I was hoping he would be a snaggle-toothed asshole, or a first year, so mum would shut up about him."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Lizzy, but he's just about the opposite. I figured he would be Head Boy, since he's so sociable and everyone seems to like him, but it was some guy named Darcy instead. He hardly ever spoke except to give instructions, and he left most of that to the Head Girl, anyway."

"Well, he sounds like a snob to me."

"Lizzy, you've never even met him."

"When Charlotte says he barely ever spoke, she's saying he's a prat."

"Am I?"

"Yes, I understand your language."

"Then why wouldn't she just come out and say it?"

"She doesn't want to ruin my fun."

"That's true."

"Anyway, back to the Bingley guy, what else have you got?"

"For someone who dislikes him so much, you seem very eager to talk about him."

"Oh, it's all in good fun, Jane. Go on, Char."

"That's really about it; we only talked for like thirty seconds. Oh, but he has two sisters! One of them is a new Slytherin Prefect, Caroline. The other one graduated last year. I tried to say hi to Caroline, but she was a total snob – sorry Lizzy, thought I'd save you the trouble –, she barely glanced at me. She spent most of her time staring at Darcy."

"I hope this doesn't get back to mum somehow," I lamented. "She'll become a borderline stalker and probably force Jane to throw herself at him or something."

Jane didn't bother to correct me. I've finally worn her down!

"It might be nice to get a boyfriend this year," Charlotte said, staring out the window in a manner I would almost have called wistfully, had I not known that Charlotte didn't engage in such flights of fancy. "Most girls in our year have already had at least two or three. Jane could have had like thirty last year, if she didn't keep turning them down."

"I didn't know them very well!"

"There probably wouldn't be much to know anyway, boys our age are all uniformly idiotic," I pronounced. "And having a boyfriend is not nearly as much fun as it looks. I tried it last year, only lasted a week before I realized what a hassle it is."

"That was _one_ guy, Lizzy, you can't say all boys are bad just because you didn't like this one," Charlotte tried to reason.

"Nope, I think he's pretty representative of boyfriends as a whole," I said, only half-joking.

"He tried to talk to you seriously a couple of times and you broke up with him!" Charlotte laughed.

"We had different priorities."

"He wanted to do something besides make out every once in a while, and you didn't?"

"That's about right," I smirked. "Not my fault he was a sappy weirdo."

"He was sweet, Lizzy," Jane protested.

"He was a pansy, Jane. Serves me right for dating a Hufflepuff," I winked at Jane, who just smiled indulgently.

It was just the three of us for a little while, but right after the trolley came around, and we bought more candy than we'd be able to eat in a week, our compartment door slid open again, and Victoire Weasley burst excitedly in like a manic pixie to give me a hug. She gave us _all_ hugs, actually, even though she barely knew Jane and Charlotte.

"Lizzy! It's been too long!"

"Vicky!"

Vicky was the Gryffindor prefect from my year.; she's really the only one in my dorm that I'd consider a friend. I'm friendly enough with almost everyone in Gryffindor, I mean, but not very close. Vicky comes the closest. And it's no wonder I like her, she's basically the tall, temperamental, Gryffindor version of Jane. Her hair is red, and she has more freckles, but she considers everyone a friend, and is genuinely very nice to everyone. Unless she's mad.

But she was very smiley and friendly today, and after we finished the precursory "how was your summer?" conversation, she jumped into her purpose for being there.

"So, Lizzy, I just wanted to let you know – and you too, Jane, Charlotte – that we're going to be having that beginning of the year party again!"

She looked at us like we should greet this as the best news we'd had in years

"Er… Vicky, that didn't exactly go very well last year," Jane reminded her gently.

"It was a disaster," I threw in.

"Oh, but we're going to warn the professors about it this time, and we'll have it by the lake, that way if there's another fire it won't spread very far! And they put that out in like two seconds, I don't know why they made such a fuss about it. Come on, everyone else is excited!"

"A party would be lovely, I'm sure," Jane smiled happily. "It would be a nice way to kick off the new school year. Without the arson, hopefully."

"Don't worry, we're totally prepared this time! Anyway, Lizzy, the Gryffindors are going to host it again, since it was our idea, so I was hoping you would help set up? It's Saturday after dinner. And we really _should_ make up for last year's. We really want this one to go well, so it can became an annual thing, with the Houses switching off hosting duties maybe! I think it would be really excellent for inter-house unity."

Man, she was really bucking for that Head Girl job next year. I didn't want to spend my Saturday afternoon stringing ribbons around the poor trees.

"Well –"

"I'll help!" Jane announced.

Dammit, Jane.

"I'll help too," I tried to sound more cheerful than I felt.

Vicky looked expectantly at Charlotte, but she determinedly studied her nails and acted like nothing was going on around her.

"Wonderful!" Vicky said after a second. "I knew you would! I already talked to the others in our year, they're going to help too, and some of the seventh years as well. Oh, and I already invited all the Prefects at the meeting –"

I gave Charlotte a questioning look, and she mouthed "I forgot."

"-And that Bingley boy is probably going to come!"

Jane nodded politely, Charlotte raised an unimpressed eyebrow, I groaned.

"Not you too, Vicky! Is he really that cute?"

"He's adorable, Lizzy. Very nice, and he's got such a cute smile. Nothing to my Teddy, of course."

And she got the same dreamy look on her face she always got when she mentioned her boyfriend. Before she could enter fantasyland, or wherever she went when she stared off into space like that, I asked her the first question that came to mind: "Do you like the new Head Boy? Charlotte says he's an asshole."

"Oh, no, I don't like him much," Vicky said dispassionately. "I don't really know him or anything, but he seemed very cold. Hardly said a word. Seems a little stuck-up. Shame, because he is _so hot_. Tall, dark and handsome, down to a T. Rich, too."

"Too bad about that stick up his ass," I said, but grinned at Jane, because I now had two opinions that backed up mine.

"Oh, don't get me started on his ass –"

"Ooookay, change of topic!" Jane interjected, blushing.

Besides one interruption from Charlotte's little sister Maria, who was looking for Kitty, the rest of the train ride passed uneventfully; as did the sorting, once we got to Hogwarts. The sorting and the end of year feasts are the only times the students are required to sit with their Houses, so I had to split from Charlotte and Jane when we entered the Great Hall.

Charlotte went to the Slytherin table (where Lydia and Kitty were already making as much noise as they could), which was on the opposite side of the Hall from me. But this didn't stop me from sticking my tongue out at Charlotte from across the room when her youngest brother was sorted into Gryffindor. The Headmaster, Professor Forster, gave his welcoming speech as usual, and then we all went off to our dorm rooms, where I fell asleep almost the second my head hit the pillow.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter is shorter than the last, I was busy this week. But the next one should be coming next week. :)

One additional note: in a review, cutelilmochi asked: "Why does Mr. Bennet undermine his wife's only sincere moment with Lizzy?". Short answer is this line from the book: _"... that continual breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in **exposing his wife to the contempt of her own children**, was so highly reprehensible." _- Volume II, Chapter 19


	3. An Excess of Prat

Chapter Three: An Excess of Prat

So it turns out that I was wrong when I said the new Head Boy was a snob.

Darcy was actually a very real, genuine, certifiable _jerkwad _who crawled out of some Hippogriff's asshole in order to act superior and look down on everybody else. And this time, I was not relying on my impeccable intuition to tell me this. Not only did I get to meet the famous Bingley boy at the beginning of the year party, but I also got to meet Dickhead Darcy, who, for some unknowable reason, is his best friend.

I really should have known something bad was going to happen at this party. Nothing that gets people so excited at Hogwarts can possibly end up being that good. And people were _so_ excited about this party. The first day of classes, it was all anybody could talk about, even though we were actually learning worthwhile things this year.

I guess it was understandable; September first was on a Thursday, so the first day of classes was Friday. That meant the school had to fit all the pre-party gossip and excitement into one day, since it was on Saturday. But still, you would think people had something _else_ to think about for even a minute. I mean, we were learning silent spells in Defense Against the Dark Arts! But, no. Even in that class, before the professor arrived, the only words out of people's mouths were about the party.

"It's by the lake, do you think there will be swimming?"

"I wonder if we're supposed to dress up for this, I didn't bring any dress robes."

"Do you think there will be food there?"

"Have you heard if the Bingleys are going?"

"Oh my god, is this all anyone can talk about?" I mumbled, head in hands. "And of course there will be swimming, what is wrong with people?"

"Buck up, Lizzy! It's going to be so much fun!" Vicky shook my shoulder in excitement, grinning and giggling. "The whole school is buzzing, this is going to be amazing!"

Sure it was. I cheered a bit so I wouldn't be a downer, though. Besides, it wasn't like I was particularly _dreading_ the party; I was just annoyed with all the hype about it. And concerned that it wasn't going to live up to it.

I had expected Charlotte to be _at least_ as wary about the party as I was, but in Charms I found that she was actually looking forward to it.

"There's going to be dancing there," she said, as we took turns trying to charm our glass of vinegar into wine. "And that might be a good way to meet a guy."

Oh my god… she couldn't be serious… could she?

After a moment went by and I hadn't responded, she looked over to finally see my incredulous expression.

"Oh, don't look at me like that Lizzy, there's nothing wrong with wanting to meet someone."

"You really think you're going to meet the perfect guy in the middle of a huge pile of dancing teenagers?"

I waved my wand at the vinegar, and it somehow got _lighter_ instead of darker. I wondered if I'd get any points for accidentally turning it into water instead.

"I didn't say anything about the perfect guy, I said _a_ guy. I know _you_ have decided that there isn't any point in dating, but I'm not as optimistic that I'm just going to suddenly run into the man of my dreams one day. Sometimes you have to date."

"But meeting someone like that… how could you possibly know you like a guy? From the way he flails his body about?"

"Well, at first. But then you can _talk_ to him, once you have him interested."

"If a guy becomes interested in you on the dance floor, I doubt it's talking he's interested in – _why_ can I not get this shit to change?"

Charlotte patiently showed me how I was moving my wrist wrong, and when _she_ moved my wrist for me the glass got darker.

"Well, I'm looking forward to this party," Charlotte said, getting back to using her own wand. "But let's talk about Quidditch! When are you going to hold your tryouts?"

And with that subject, we spent a blissful half an hour free from party talk.

I didn't really get a chance to talk to Jane until Saturday morning, when we were by the lake setting up for the party. She was pointing her wand at trees, draping ribbons and streamers around the branches. Other students were bringing in chairs and tables, setting up towels at various points around the lake. Vicky and a couple seventh years were enchanting candles to float above the area, like in the Great Hall (with Professor Chamberlayne supervising to make sure they did it right). I followed after Jane, charming ribbons around the tree trunks.

"I don't think Vicky is gonna be happy until every square inch of the grounds is covered in ribbon."

"Which reminds me, Lizzy, we're supposed to be using all the House colors, not just Gryffindor's."

"Red and gold is clearly the prettiest combination," I grumbled, but obligingly made my wand spit out yellow and black for the next one.

"That's nice. I think this party is going to be fun," Jane announced, smiling as she twirled her wand to make low-hanging bows on some of the higher branches.

"Maybe, if I can manage to spend most of my time in the lake and avoid the grinding pit."

"I'm sure the dancing won't be that bad."

"That's because you left last year's before it _got_ that bad. I'm half convinced that fire was caused by hormones, not magic."

"Well, I'm sure everyone will keep it respectful."

"You go ahead and think that," I smirked. "By the time it hits about 10:30, the whole dancing thing will have derailed into a bunch of out of control teenagers basically rubbing against each other. Which might just make Charlotte happy. Did I tell you she actually wants to meet a guy tonight? While _dancing?_"

"The way you say that, it's like she's proposed murdering someone," Jane laughed. "What's wrong with that?"

"Oh, Jane. So sweet and innocent. She's not gonna meet a decent guy on the dance floor, I guarantee that."

...

"Billy Collins?!"

"Lizzy –"

"She cannot be serious."

"It's just one dance –"

"He's a total creep!"

"That's not-"

"_Lizzy!" _

At the sound of someone calling my name, Jane and I turned and saw Vicky coming towards us from the punch bowl.

"So, what do you think?" She had to nearly shout to be heard above the noise. "Didn't I tell you it would be good?"

I uncrossed my arms and scanned around the area. The nice, peaceful lake had been transformed into the textbook definition of a teenage party taken to an extreme- minus the copious amounts of alcohol, I guess. It looked like the inside of a tacky wedding cake. It _sounded _like an out of tune symphony on drugs.

We were standing right next to the largest stereos at the party, which were floating just above our heads and belting out some fast paced wizard techno shit. Ten or so feet away from us was the dance area that had been sectioned off by strings of lights, and which contained at least a hundred students, who were mostly just jumping around. Fairy lights lit up the ribbons around the trees and surrounded the lake, full of even more students than the dance floor. The Butterbeer was all the way across the party, and I fully intended to head that way if Charlotte persisted in her terrible choice of dance partners.

Still, despite _that_ little hiccup, the party did seem to be going rather well.

I made sure to sound a trifle more enthusiastic in my praise to Vicky. Jane echoed my sentiments times a trillion, so Vicky was pleased.

"Well, you should dance or swim or something! I have to go make sure everyone is having fun!" And off she went in a flash of red.

"She's right," I told Jane. "I'm going swimming. I can't watch Charlotte flail around with Billy anymore, I'll lose all faith in humanity."

"Should we wait for Charlotte?"

"Nah, she hates the Giant Squid. She'll get bored of that snot face soon and come find us."

She did come find us, but not just because she got bored of that snot face.

Jane and I had only been swimming for fifteen minutes (I had just dunked Lydia and gotten away quickly enough so that she didn't know it was me, so I was having a good time) when a strange hush fell over the party on the grounds.

I, along with everyone else in the lake, looked over to see what was wrong, but all we could see was a bunch of students looking towards the castle, or something near it.

"What's going on?"

Lydia and Kitty swam up beside us.

I didn't answer, and swam over to shore to get closer, followed by some others.

"Are you kidding me? It's only some people who just got here. They're a little late but I don't –"

"That's Charlie Bingley!" Someone behind me hissed.

Oh, come on. _That's_ why all these people dropped everything to whisper about them?

I looked over at them again. There were three people in the group, two guys and a girl, though it was hard to tell much about them from the distance.

"The one in the middle must be Charlie," Jane said to me. "Vicky said he had red hair."

"I guess the other ginger is his sister."

"But who's that _gorgeous_ guy next to him?" Lydia giggled.

"How can you tell he's gorgeous?" Kitty asked. "I can barely tell what hair color he has."

"I can just _tell," _Lydia rolled her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure he's wearing a badge," I observed. "And he's about the only one here still in his school uniform. That must be the Head Boy with the stick up his ass. Darcy."

During this conversation, the party was _barely_ just starting to do something besides whisper to each other, and a lot of people were still looking at them very blatantly. Luckily, Vicky had noticed by this time, and I could see her basically running up to to greet them. Bingley seemed almost as enthusiastic as _she_ was; his sister nodded in what seemed like a polite way, and Darcy nodded in what seemed like a dismissive way. This at least seemed to snap the party back to its senses.

"Alright, show's over!" I said, loud enough for everyone around me to hear. "Can we get back to swimming now?"

I had thought that this entrance would have been the only remarkable thing to happen at the party, and I was fully prepared to spend the rest of it swimming and studiously ignoring Charlotte's questionable choice of company. But this was about when she had gotten bored of the snot face, and tore me away from the lake to suffer some torturous company.

Only about five minutes had passed since the entrance of the most interesting man in the world, when I was once again interrupted, this time during a splash war with Lydia, Kitty and some of the other Slytherins.

"Lizzy!"

I turned, but didn't see anyone who seemed to have called my name. While I was faced away, Kitty got in a good splash to my head.

"Oh, you asked for it now –"

Kitty squealed and ducked under water at the same time I heard my name again. I turned, and still didn't see anyone who was looking at me.

"It's Charlotte, Lizzy," Jane said from next to me, pointing toward the shore.

Sure enough, when I looked toward the grounds I saw Charlotte enthusiastically waving at me. But she wasn't alone. Around her were Bingley, and the person I assumed to be Darcy. Merlin knows how she got stuck talking to them.

When Charlotte caught my eye she frantically waved me over. Bingley gave a wave as well.

"Oh, come _on_," I sighed. "I'll be – Kitty, _one_ more time, I _swear_."

"Lizzy, I called your name three times!" Charlotte admonished when I finally reached her and the others, having stopped to wrap a towel around myself. "Let me introduce you!" She looked really relieved at my being there. What was it about this Bingley guy that got everyone so worked up?

He was good-looking, sure; I could easily tell now that I was finally seeing him up close. Vicky was right; he was a walking _Witch Weekly_ cover, right down to the perfectly straight smile and the blue eyes. He grinned when he was introduced, and he actually _shook my hand_, like we were forty or something. But still, he was very friendly, and sincere when he said it was nice to meet me.

Unlike his friend.

"And this is William Darcy," Charlotte told me, smiling stiffly.

"Hi, I'm Lizzy."

Vicky was right on point about him too. Probably as hot as any guy I'd ever seen. Not the pretty-boy, Cherub-like good looks of his friend, but that square-jawed, dark haired, legitimately _handsome_ kinda look. Vicky was right about the rest of him too, though; he looked at me up and down when we were introduced, did _not_ smile, gave a stiff nod, and looked away towards the castle again.

"Nice to meet you too, buddy," I said under my breath. He might have heard, given the way his eyes slid back towards me for a second, but maybe he was just wondering if I'd removed myself from his presence yet.

"You seemed really into that splashing war," Bingley said, still grinning sincerely. "Charlotte was telling us you can really get in the zone when you're focused on something."

"Yeah, sorry I didn't hear you the first time," I told Charlotte. "What did you want?"

"Oh, just to introduce you," Charlotte smiled, that same awkward smile she'd had on since I got there. "It's a party, after all, people should be mingling!"

"Absolutely!" Bingley agreed. "I love meeting new people!"

Darcy scoffed slightly, still looking off into the distance.

"Maybe you'll meet my sister later, she's just over there," Bingley continued, pointing towards the table where the Butterbeer was, and where the same red-haired girl who'd entered the party with them was standing talking to a couple other people.

A moment of silence passed. "You can't meet my other sister, though, she graduated last year."

"I've got sisters, too," I said, for lack of anything else to say. "Mary isn't here, she's '_got better uses for her time than a party'_. Lydia , Kitty and Jane are swimming – oh, nevermind!"

I had turned to point towards my sisters in the lake, when Jane walked up right beside me, her t-shirt on over her swimsuit, smiling and looking curiously at our little group.

And so, boys and girls, _that_ is how Jane met her soul mate. In a loud party, standing under ribbons lit up by fairy lights, Jane and Bingley smiled at each other, bells chimed and sparks flew and an angel probably got its wings or something.

Mom would be way too pleased.

"This is my twin sister, Jane. Jane, this is –"

"Charlie," Bingley's voice came out slightly cracked. He cleared his throat. "Charlie Bingley."

"Nice to meet you, Charlie," Jane smiled wide enough to show her dimple, and I could practically see Bingley's eyes bulge out of his head and his heart hammer through his chest.

It was like watching a damn cartoon.

They stared at each other for another five seconds; Charlotte and I exchanged amused glances.

"Oh," Bingley cleared his throat again. "This is my best friend, William Darcy." He waved his hand vaguely in his direction. Darcy nodded his head again without even looking at her. He might as well not have been there, for all he contributed. Though his looming did add a fun sense of foreboding to the atmosphere.

Not that I suspect Jane or Bingley noticed any of this. No, their eyes had locked, and everything was rainbows and sunshine from then on out.

For them, anyway.

"Hey, Jane, I noticed the music just changed," Bingley looked towards the dance area, slightly tamer than the jumping pit of before. "Would you like to dance?"

"I'd love to," Jane's smile brightened another watt, and Bingley offered his hand to lead her to the dance floor.

"From first meeting to true love in under a minute," Charlotte shook her head. "How does she do it?"

"_One danc_e does not true love make," I said quietly, because Darcy had suddenly deigned to actually face in our direction.

A moment of awkward silence, then Charlotte burst out with "Well, I'm gonna go get some punch! See ya later!"

"Char –"

Before I could even utter her _name_, she was off, leaving me behind with a man who had yet to utter a single _word_, and who was now staring fixedly at me, instead of off towards the castle. I started to wish he would avoid eye contact again, because his stare was kind of intense. It was like he was trying to light me on fire with his mind.

"So, uh… congrats on being made Head Boy," I said after a beat.

He blinked. "Thank you."

_Maybe he was raised by wolves? It would explain the social skills. Or lack thereof. _

"You don't have to wear your school uniform all day, you know. It's a party." _Maybe I can extract some sense of humor out of him? Anything?_

He looked down at himself and adjusted his tie; silver and green.

"I'm aware."

"... are you enjoying the party so far?"

He blinked at me, looking a little incredulous.

_You know what? I give up. Let the record show that I tried. _

"Well, it was nice to meet you, William Darcy," I lied. "I'm headed back to the lake."

I didn't wait around to see what his lack of goodbye would be.

"Hey, Lizzy," Charlotte ducked out from behind a tree when I got near the lake. "Sorry, that was just so awkward. Vicky brought them over to say hi, but then she got called away and I didn't know what to say, so I figured I'd introduce you."

"Nah, it's fine. Though Jane certainly got the better part of that deal."

I nodded towards the edge of the dance floor, where Jane and Bingley were dancing on a cloud of bliss, smiles so wide we could see them from there.

"Still, I'm sorry I left you with Darcy, but I knew you'd get out soon. Did he say anything?"

"No, he's the most socially stunted asshat I've ever met," I scoffed, and looked towards him again. Bingley's sister was with him now, holding onto his arm, and… yeah, I'm pretty sure she was pouting up at him, though as far as I could tell he might not have even known she was there.

"Why the hell is Bingley friends with that dude?"

"I dunno, there must be something good about him."

"You're starting to sound like Jane, Charlotte. Trust me, that Darcy doesn't have a single redeeming quality in his body."

And I didn't even know the half of it yet.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry to leave off in the middle of the party, but I had a little writer's block this week, so I split the party into two chapters to get the updates up relatively on time.


	4. The Scumbag Overheard

Chapter Four: The Scumbag Overheard

I realize that my earlier statement about the depth of William Darcy's douchebaggery doesn't quite mesh with what had happened with him so far. _The guy ignores the people around him for a couple minutes, and that means he's crawled out of a Hippogriff's asshole? God, Lizzy, give the guy a break._

Come on, people, have some faith! What he did later on in the party was much worse.

About an hour after I walked away from the uncommunicative Darcy, I found myself exceptionally bored. There was really only so much time you could spend swimming in the same lake before you needed something else to do. Plus, everyone else had basically _abandoned me_. Lydia and Kitty were off on the dance floor, as was Charlotte, though she thankfully found someone besides Billy Collins to dance with. Jane was there as well, dancing the night away with the grinning Bingley. Vicky was off playing host. Most other people I knew were either dancing or swimming, and as I was disinclined to do either at the moment, I was by myself.

So, I wondered over to my favorite tree by the edge of the lake. It far enough away from the majority of the party that the noise was dimmed, and I could at least wait out my boredom in peace. I might have just gone back inside, but I didn't feel like going through the trouble of informing Jane and Charlotte that I was leaving. I sat at the base of my tree, staring up at the stars through the branches. I was just sitting there, contemplating the meaning of life, the depth of the universe, my charms homework, whether mom could already sense that one of her daughters was dancing with the Bingley boy; you know, typical stuff people think about when they're stargazing. I was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night like that, calmly sitting and thinking while the party raged on behind me.

But then I heard _him_.

Well, I actually heard his friend first.

"Darcy, _where_ are you going?"

I snapped my head around to look behind me, where I could see two figures coming near. The taller of the two was a little in the lead, and the second was practically running to catch up with him. I looked forward again quickly.

I hadn't been able to see their faces, but I knew that was Bingley's voice. And if I had held any doubts about who the other was, the sardonic tone of the response would have cleared them up.

"I'm just trying to get a break from the party for a minute."

The first true sentence I had ever heard William Darcy utter. Makes sense that it was spoken harshly, and from much closer than I would have liked. I peeked around the edge of the tree again, and saw that the two of them had gotten much closer; they were maybe ten feet away. Darcy was facing away from me, talking to Bingley. I could see Bingley's face now, looking at Darcy in what seemed to be exasperation.

"A break? You've just been standing around the entire time! _What_ exactly do you think you need a break from?"

I grinned, ducking behind the tree again before they noticed me. And, okay, I know that seems like eavesdropping, but it's not like I thought they were going to talk about anything significant. Plus, I was there first, I wasn't about to leave just because Darcy needed a new place to brood. Also they'd see me if I tried to leave, and Bingley would probably draw me into another awkward conversation.

"You know I hate parties, Charles."

"That's because you don't participate in them! You are _determined_ to have a bad time, so that's exactly what happens. If you'd just go swimming, or talk to someone, or ask a girl to dance –"

Darcy scoffed. "You want me to dance? At _this_ party? I've seen what these people think is dancing. If I'm not mistaken, you and your pretty new friend _stopped_ dancing because it got out of control. Besides, your sister seems to have disappeared, and she's the only girl I know well enough to converse with. You know, this is _exactly_ what I expected to find at a Gryffindor party; an out of control mess."

_Oh, that arrogant asshole! It's not a _Gryffindor_ party, genius, don't you see that the ribbons are in _all_ the House colors__?! _

I gritted my teeth to avoid jumping out from behind the tree and hexing him. I think Bingley would have defended the party, if it weren't for the fact that Darcy's mention of his "new friend" had completely distracted him.

"She _is_ gorgeous, isn't she? And she's so sweet."

I could practically _hear_ the dreamy smile on his face.

"And her name is _Jane_, you know that, Darcy. Hey, why don't you go talk to her sister! Her twin, Lizzy! I think I saw her walking around by herself not too long ago. She's pretty too, and she seemed smart."

Darcy scoffed again. "Oh, please, Charles. Jane is really the only pretty girl I've seen so far at this party. Her sister is passable, _maybe_, but nothing worth exerting myself over. Plus, I'm not going to go chasing after some girl who can't find friends of her own."

"Darcy!"

"I'll come back to the party with you, Charles, and I will _talk_ to you and your Jane, but only if you don't try to get me to dance anymore."

Bingley must have shown some sign of agreement, because I heard their footsteps going back the way they came. I sat there for a moment, stunned.

So, the high and mighty Head Boy didn't consider me worth his time. Pompous prat. No one wants his stupid time, anyway.

I realized that I was crushing the grass in my fists, so I hurried to stand up and head back to the party before I got too consumed by my own rage. But the short walk back towards the main area gave me enough time to seethe in my head.

_Passable._ _Passable?! Hey buddy, just because you have some decent facial features doesn't mean you get to go around passing judgment on everybody else. And I have _plenty_ of friends, way more than_ you _I bet_,_ just because a person is alone for five minutes doesn't mean they have no friends. I'm just going to ignore him for the rest of my life. I can't even tell him that I don't care about his stupid opinion, because then he'll know I overheard and he'll think I was eavesdropping. Even though it was his stupid fault for coming over there and thinking no one else could be so clever as to be in that area and overhear his stupid conversation. Stupid._

"You okay, Lizzy? You look about ready to punch someone."

I blinked, and realized I was standing by the butterbeer table, where Jane had just appeared in front of me. Or maybe I appeared in front of her. I get in kind of a daze when I'm ranting in my head.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Your face is red, and you were muttering to yourself. Last time I saw you like this, Lydia and Kitty's beds ended up filled with lizards."

Curse my fair skin. I flush easily.

"Honestly, I'm fine. I'm just a little bored."

"Well, we can't have that!"

Bingley suddenly appeared behind Jane, dragging behind him a stoic Darcy, and the girl he had indicated earlier as his sister. Were _they_ supposed to solve my boredom?

"Jane, Lizzy, you've already met Darcy, but I'd like you to meet my sister, Caroline!"

Caroline flashed us the pageant smile – large, but totally fake – and shook our hands, just like her brother had done when he met us. Her nails were painted immaculately in glittering green, which matched her dress. Apparently both she and Darcy missed the memo that this was a casual party.

"_So_ nice to meet you."

She glanced over at Darcy, who apparently found the grass much more interesting than anybody there. Asshat.

"You too," I said to Caroline, in that standard polite way that people do.

"Charlie has told me so much about you!" Jane told her, smiling much more sincerely than I imagined most people to be capable of upon a first meeting. "He said you had just been made a prefect this year, congratulations."

"Thank you, but I wasn't really surprised," Caroline flipped her long mane of red hair, and the number of times she glanced over at Darcy was starting to annoy me. _Good lord, woman, he's not gonna look over to gaze at your hair, give it a rest_. "Everyone in my family has been prefects."

"That's nice."

_Is it, Jane? Is it _really_?_

"It's not common in our family," Jane continued. "Our younger sister Mary was just made a prefect though, she's the same year as you! Maybe you remember her from the meeting? She's in Ravenclaw."

"Short, dark hair? Glasses?"

"Yes, that's her!"

"Yeah, I remember her. She's… quite into_ rules, _isn't she?"

I didn't exactly like Caroline's tone, but Jane didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, yeah, Mary's a real stickler for rules. Being a prefect is the perfect job for her."

Caroline just nodded, smiling in a way I would term _derisive_, but again, I doubt Jane thought of it that way.

Bingley, who appeared to have a habit of breaking awkward silences, said after a moment, "So, everyone excited for the Quidditch season?"

_Finally, something I can talk about!_

I was about to say something along the lines of how Gryffindor was going to kick ass this year, but Caroline spoke first.

"Seriously, Charles? _Quidditch?_ You know I hate that sport. I can't believe people would spend so much time flying around on broomsticks when there are so many better things they could be doing."

I could feel myself bristling. If I was an animal, I imagine all my hair would have started standing on end. As it was, I didn't need that kind of sign for Jane to know that I wasn't pleased. I wanted to tell Caroline that Quidditch was a much better way to spend your time than mooning over Darcy, but a quick glance at Jane showed me her anxious expression, and I remembered that she happened to like this girl's older brother.

So, outright hostility was out. Maybe intense sarcasm would do the trick.

"Oh, yes, I agree!" I announced enthusiastically. "Quidditch is the absolute worst thing _on this planet! _What kind of person would waste their time flying around in the air? I think it should be banned for all eternity –"

"I believe Elizabeth plays for Gryffindor, Caroline," Darcy interjected, finally lifting his gaze from the ground. He looked at me for a moment and raised his eyebrow.

_Asshole._I wasn't sure what to be yell at him about first. One, he called me _Elizabeth_. Plus he _interrupted _my sarcastic speech, which was also rude. But then I looked over at Caroline. It was truly comical, the look on her face; part surprise, part confusion, part anger, part embarrassment. She couldn't seem to decide which emotion to express, and ended up looking kind of constipated.

So I burst out laughing. And my laugh is kind of like a combination of continuous guffaws and loud giggles, which produces an… _interesting_ sort of sound.

Now, dear Jane says my laugh is "contagious", which is just her nice way of saying it's so ridiculously obnoxious that other people find it funny. Either way, it got people laughing and broke the tension, I suppose. Even Caroline laughed, though I'm pretty sure it was mean-spirited, given that she glanced at Darcy like they were sharing a secret joke. He neither laughed nor acknowledged her little look.

Seriously, my bizarre laughter didn't even get a _smile_ out of him? It's official: he is incapable of any human emotion.

"What's so funny?"

Charlotte walked up behind me, and looked at our strange group curiously; me, Jane and Bingley were still giggling a little bit, Caroline was smirking and Darcy was looking around for something new to be irritated with.

"Charlotte plays Quidditch too!" I announced, yanking her by the arm more fully into our circle.

"That's how they met, actually," Jane supplied, with one last suppressed giggle. "Charlotte plays the same position as Lizzy, Keeper."

"Only she plays for Slytherin, so I was fully prepared to hate her guts. And I'm sure she felt the same way –"

"I am not nearly as determined to hate people as –"

"Oh please, you spent the thirty seconds just before our first game _glaring_ at me hardcore."

"Only because _you_ were glaring at _me_ –"

"But then they saw that they were both excellent players," Jane said, in that tone that meant she was trying to forestall an argument. "And then mutual respect turned into friendship, and now they've been best friends for three years."

"That's so nice!" Bingley exclaimed. "I love Quidditch, but I'm absolutely terrible at it."

"Oh, me too! I can't balance on a broomstick to save my life," Jane chuckled.

"Me either!"

Apparently, having yet _another_ thing in common was the last straw; if Jane and Bingley weren't goo-goo over each other before, they certainly were now. They looked at each other like this coincidental fact was the most amazing thing they'd ever heard, and I'm pretty sure Bingley was about five seconds away from proposing.

I'll never know, though.

At that moment, the music suddenly cut off with a loud screech, which startled the fairies in the fairy lights so much that they flew away, leaving the place in semi darkness.

The grounds broke out in murmurs, people looking around in alarm, until a voice from near the castle rang out:

"Alright, kids! You've had your fun, but it's ten o'clock! Everyone needs to head back inside _immediately_."

Oh. Professor Gardiner. She was standing between us and the castle, hands on her hips. I guess the professors had decided that the party was over.

The students grumbled, but grudgingly began heading towards the castle. Bingley gallantly offered Jane his arm, and she giggled and accepted. Caroline forcibly _took _Darcy's arm, and he offered no reaction. Well, maybe he blinked a little extra. I was about to make a show of offering Charlotte my arm, when Gardiner spoke again.

"Except the prefects. You'll stay and help me clean up."

"HA!" I grinned cheerily at Charlotte and dashed away quickly.

_Karma for not helping set up the party –_

"You can help too, Lizzy."

My grin faded. In all my excitement, I had passed too close to Professor Gardiner, who was walking towards the party while everyone else walked away.

"Professor, you're supposed to treat your favorite student _better_ than the others, not worse," I whispered, as I turned and headed back to the party with her. Maybe she missed that part of the teaching handbook.

Gardiner rolled her eyes and kept walking.

Charlotte smiled triumphantly when she caught sight of me.


	5. Charlotte's Warning

Chapter Five: Charlotte's Warning

When my sisters and I were kids, we used to gather in our backyard on Saturday mornings and read each other stories. Sometimes we would act them out, but that usually led to Lydia and Kitty derailing the entire thing with their "improvisations". So we tended to stick to just reading them.

Jane's favorite story was a muggle one that dad gave her one Christmas. Something about a turtle and a hare (which is just a rabbit, I never understood why they didn't just call it a rabbit), where the turtle won a race because the hare couldn't stop showing off. The moral _I_ got from that story was not to be a show-offy jackass; the moral _Jane_ got was "slow and steady wins the race".

The reason I bring this up now is because Jane had apparently carried that moral with her all her life, and was now applying it to her relationship – for lack of a better term – with Bingley. And I _am_ happy that she's taking things slowly. Jane is not the type to rush _anything_, and if they had started going out soon after the party, I doubt she would have been happy with him for long.

But sometimes you see two people who so obviously like each other that you just want to shove them together and tell them to make out already. You know?

I guess I should back up a little.

The day after the party, Jane and I were sitting by the lake, under the same tree where I had been sitting the night before. There were a lot of students around, especially the younger ones who didn't have much homework yet, playing games or lounging around, enjoying the relatively warm weather while it lasted.

We, however, _did _have a fair amount of homework already. Not that we were getting much of it done. A lot had happened last night, there was discussion to be had! And a twin sister to be teased.

"Can I be the maid of honor?"

"_Lizzy," _Jane blushed a little. "We literally just met! We hardly know each other, I hardly know whether I could ever be serious about him."

"It was a _joke, _Jane. But I'm not sure you could be anything _but_ serious about him. I'm not blind Jane, it's obvious you like him."

She blushed again, smiled and looked away.

"Yes," she said, so quietly I could barely hear her. "He's so… he just seems so sweet, and he was so kind to me, and he made me laugh."

"Plus he's rich and cute –"

"Lizzy, that has no bearing on –"

"I know, I know; you'd like him even if he wasn't male model material," I rolled my eyes, but smiled at her affectionately. "Relax, I definitely approve. Go ahead and make googly eyes at him as much as you want. I'm sure he'll seek you out at dinner tonight."

Jane continued smiling, but turned back to the book in her lap without replying.

"Probably to propose," I continued. "He was about to last night before Gardiner shut the party down –"

"Is Charlotte coming today?" Jane asked, pretending to be aloof.

"You know she never wakes up before 1 on weekends. And no changing the subject!"

"You did like him though, didn't you?" Jane asked, concerned all of the sudden.

"Oh, yeah," I assured her, dismissively waving my hand. "He's nice, and he really likes you. I mean, half the guys at Hogwarts probably like you, so he's not the most original person in the world for it, but you could have chosen much worse."

Jane smiled. This was practically a glowing recommendation from me, after all.

"Too bad he keeps such poor company. Guess he can't help his sister, though."

"Oh, I thought Caroline seemed really sweet!"

_Uh huh_… I tried to convey my disbelief through my expression. Jane, however, was back to looking at her book, so it went to waste.

"You're sure we're talking about the same person right? Caroline was a snob, at _best_."

"She was a little…" Jane searched for a word. It was amusing to watch her attempt to be anything but 100% complimentary about someone. "...Uptight. At first. But she was nice."

"Merlin, Jane, you don't have a bad opinion about anyone, do you? Anything good about a person, you magnify it as much as you can, and anything bad you don't see or explain away."

"We see people a little differently, Lizzy, but we both say exactly what we think."

"I _know_, that's the most amazing part! You aren't even _faking_ it, you honestly do see only the good in everybody. You're the only person in the world who can be both so smart and so nice."

Jane waved her hand at the praise, blushing. "Well, what about his friend, Darcy?" she asked. Ah, changing the subject whenever she was in danger of receiving too much attention on herself. Classic Jane. "I hardly need to ask what you thought about him, you could barely stop glaring at him the entire night!"

"Really? I thought I was controlling that," I mused. "Oh, but you're right, I despise him."

"Why? He wasn't very talkative, but maybe he was just distracted."

I sighed. I hadn't had a chance to tell Jane what I'd overheard Darcy say about me last night. I told Charlotte when we were cleaning up after the party (as soon as she finished gloating about me getting roped into it), but no one else. I didn't want to be the reason Jane had to learn to genuinely dislike a person –

Oh, who am I kidding? I'd love for her to dislike Darcy.

"You didn't hear what he's like when he _is_ talkative. Just try to avoid a negative opinion after you hear _this."_

I told her what I heard when I was hidden (_accidentally)_ behind the tree, with minimal exaggeration or theatrics, so she'd know I wasn't making anything up. And Jane's good opinion can hold strong through a lot of things. But insulting one of her sisters? That's where she draws the line.

"He _actually _said that? You're sure you didn't… I don't know, hear him wrong?"

It's not often I get to shock Jane this much, with the full on dropped jaw and wide eyes, so I grinned.

"Ha! Yes, Jane, I'm sure. He _is_ that big a douche."

"I can't believe he said that. Perhaps he was just… feeling extra testy that night?"

This time Jane _did _see my disbelieving expression.

"Either way, it was a terrible thing for him to say!" She hastened to add. "He must not have seen you properly, Lizzy, to think you aren't pretty."

I suppose that was as negative an opinion as I could ever expect to hear from her.

"Are you _still_ going on about that, Lizzy?"

Charlotte smirked as she plopped down in the grass next to us. I noticed she had forgotten to brush her hair, and I'm pretty sure she was still wearing her pajama shirt. Charlotte is _not_ a morning person.

"No idea what you're talking about," I said, as aloof as I could pull off.

"I am sorry you had to hear that, though," Charlotte continued, extracting a book from her backpack. "People are never supposed to hear the kind of things people say behind their backs."

"Psh. I'm not sorry," I said. "I'd rather know what people really think of me than not know. It's not like I was bucking for his good opinion, anyway."

"Well, try to behave yourself, Lizzy, because here come your favorite people," Charlotte said, looking off towards the castle.

Great. Bloody fantastic.

"Looks like he couldn't wait until dinner, Jane," I sighed dramatically. "Don't know why he had to bring those two with him."

Jane gave no indication that she had heard me. As soon as she spotted Bingley (flanked by Darcy and Caroline on either side) walking towards us, her face lit up, and she was lost to the world. The enthusiasm of her wave was matched only be his. The apathetic look on Darcy's face was matched only by the fake smile on Caroline's. I just tried my best not to gag.

"I didn't see you in the common room, I was wondering where you might be," Bingley said to Jane, after a polite greeting to Charlotte and I. "I mean – not that I was looking for you! I just figured I might see you. Not that I expect you to spend all your time in the common room or anything –"

"We spend as much time outside as we can," I supplied, trying not to laugh as Bingley fumbled with his words. He smiled gratefully.

"Lizzy loves the outdoors," Jane explained. "So do I, it's so nice to be able to study and get fresh air at the same time. Why don't you sit down?"

Bingley could hardly sit down fast enough. To my dismay, Darcy and Caroline (who had been chatting quietly together) didn't come up with some excuses to go, and sat down with us. Though Caroline did make a show about attempting an elegant pose, even when doing something as _undignified_ as sitting in the grass.

Since Bingley and Jane were in their own little world now, I resolved to studiously ignore Darcy and Caroline, and actually picked up my book.

I was doing well until I felt someone's eyes on me. Looking up, I was startled to see that Darcy was looking directly at me. He looked away when he caught my eye, but I got the distinct impression that he had been _staring_ at me.

What a weirdo.

"Lizzy," Caroline said suddenly. "That's such a cute shirt, where did you get it?"

I looked down. What the hell was she on about? I was wearing a plain black tank top.

"Um… a muggle store, probably."

"Ah," Caroline smiled, like this explained a lot. She threw another one of those looks at Darcy.

Ugh, they were probably _those_ kind of Slytherins, who still thought Muggles were beneath them. They were in the minority now, but those people still existed.

"My dad is a Muggle-Born," I continued, hoping to get a rise out of them. I was just itching for an excuse to use the bat-bogey hex on Darcy.

Caroline just nodded, same fake smile in place. Darcy continued to search through his bag for something. His soul, perhaps.

"Nice try," Charlotte whispered, smirking into her book.

Not very quietly, I think, because Darcy raised his eyes and looked at me. He held eye contact this time, until I made a "what the fuck do you want?" expression, and he looked down at his book. Not quite sure if he heard Charlotte, though. Maybe he was just offended that I braided my hair today. It probably _did_ look a little ridiculous, since more of it was sticking out of the braid than was in it. Still, who was he to judge? Let him try having my hair, see how he deals with it.

I miss when he just stared off into the distance.

"Anyway," I suddenly slammed my book shut, startling Jane and Bingley out of their conversation for a moment. "I've got to oversee Quidditch tryouts, so I'm going! Bye!"

"Lizzy, those tryouts aren't until 3!" Charlotte said, but I had already slung my backpack over my shoulder.

"Gotta set up!" I yelled as I walked quickly away. "Strategize and stuff!"

I almost felt bad leaving Charlotte virtually alone with the superior Slytherins, but then I remembered that she had done almost the same thing to me at the party last night.

I was a little worried about how this situation boded, though. If Jane and Bingley persisted in this happy little love fest for long, that might mean me seeing a lot more of Darcy. Maybe he would _stop_ just tagging along with his friend everywhere he went?

...

Well, that was a futile hope if there ever was one. Does Darcy have _no_ other friends – wait, of course he doesn't.

For about the next week, Jane and Bingley saw a lot of each other. Which means I had the fun task of somehow avoiding Darcy when he was only five feet away from me. It's not that I was afraid of awkward conversations (though I didn't exactly enjoy those); it was more that I wasn't sure I could refrain from telling him off if he said something douchey. And I didn't want my inability to stand Darcy to get in the way of Jane and Bingley.

Luckily, most of the times Jane and Bingley ran into each other were on one of two occasions; one, in the hallway between classes, where I could just walk ahead to class - and thank Merlin that Bingley and Darcy were in seventh year, so we didn't have any classes _together_. Or two, at meals, where I could just start talking to whoever else happened to be sitting next to me when Bingley and the cronies plopped down at whatever table we were sitting at that day. One time he did ask me out of the blue whether I liked the chicken, so that was strange. But after I nodded shortly, he turned back away from me again.

This is the part where Jane's whole "slow and steady" mentality really comes in, though. After this week of tentatively flirting (while safely surrounded by their friends), Jane and Bingley were ready to take the momentous leap of _purposely_ hanging out together. You know, like making plans _ahead of time_ to do so. But it wouldn't be Jane if they just stared _dating_. They needed to hang out more "as friends, to get to know each other."

You might think they would be able to do that perfectly well by themselves.

Wrong.

They needed to do it in a group. Maybe it stems from Darcy's constant need to cock block? Caroline tagged along with Bingley most of the time too, but I'm pretty sure that was just to be near Darcy (even though it would only take a sane person like five seconds to figure out that he was clearly not interested). So, Jane in turn dragged _me_ into their company almost constantly, ostensibly so I could "get to know Charlie better", but since he spoke almost exclusively to her, that didn't really happen. Basically, I was there to distract Darcy and Caroline so Jane could _continue_ to talk almost exclusively to Bingley. But I dragged Charlotte along too, so it wasn't so bad.

Anyway, these "friendly" little hang outs usually took the form of group study sessions in the library (because a recent bout of rain had made the grounds a less than ideal place for it).

Of course, as is probably common with study groups, little studying actually got done. Jane and Bingley mostly just sat at the end of the table and whispered to each other. Caroline usually left after about half an hour, once she realized that Darcy was about the only one there _actually_ interested in studying, and ignored her attempts at conversation. Although he did occasionally look up from his books to glare at me for breathing to hard or having a curl out of place or something. Charlotte and I did get some stuff done, when I wasn't doodling Quidditch plays in the margins of my books.

I suppose this is as good a time as any for an honesty moment: I was really, _really_ happy for Jane. She had found a guy she really liked, and he seemed to really like her, and they were talking and getting along and this slow going thing was really ideal for Jane's personality, so yay, happy for them. But I was also a teeny bit jealous that I had to share my beloved twin sister. We usually spent as much time as we could together, but a lot of her free time was now being monopolized by Bingley. Really happy for her though! I could see how much she liked Bingley, and I would never begrudge her that. I would have had to get used to not having her around all the time at some point, anyway.

But, I digress. Back to the point!

About two weeks into these "study sessions", we were all gathered in the library as usual (we had only been there for about fifteen minutes, so Caroline was still there too), and Charlotte and I were engrossed in conversation that was _totally_ relevant to our classes.

"But that's only if you win the first game, Lizzy."

"_If?_ Gryffindor is gonna kick ass right from the start, just like we always do."

"Always? Need I remind you of the Hufflepuff game last year –"

"No, don't think we need to relive that. Unless you want to discuss the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw game of our_ fourth_ year?"

"Yeah, we can avoid that too. Anyway, I don't know why you insist on doing this every year, Lizzy, there's no point discussing the Cup until at least the first game has been played."

"I don't know why you try to convince me not to, I always –"

"I thought we were supposed to be studying," a deep voice drawled.

I looked up from the bracket I had been drawing on a piece of parchment to find Darcy glaring at us from across the table, utterly expressionless save for the irritation glowing strongly in his eyes.

"I _am_ studying," I struggled to make my face as expressionless as his, but I think I ended up with a taunting smirk. It would do. "I'm studying _Quidditch_."

"What _is_ the point of that chart?" He nudged my parchment with his quill. "It _does_ seem rather pointless."

"It's a _bracket," _I practically hissed. "And I do one for every scenario, so I know how good a chance we have of winning, see?"

I took out a couple more pieces of parchment I had been doodling on earlier and waved them in Darcy's face. I almost burst out laughing at his shocked expression.

_What, Darce-face, do people usually kiss your feet and ask permission before speaking to you?_

_"_There's a lot more strategy involved in Quidditch than I realized!" Bingley said, grinning pleasantly. Oops. Guess we managed to knock he and Jane out of their own conversation.

"Oh, yes," Jane agreed. "I never knew how much work it was until Lizzy joined."

And then they went right back to whispering to each other.

"Some people just find sports more important than school, Darcy," Caroline jumped in. I'm pretty sure she could _not_ have made her tone more condescending if her life depended on it. Darcy let out a little perturbed sigh and went back to his book.

"Speaking of," I slammed my book shut. "I have to get to practice."

(I really had to get a new exit strategy, this was gonna start getting stale.)

This time I wasn't even leaving early as an excuse though; I really did have to go. Besides, Jane hardly needed the chaperon anymore. She and Bingley had progressed so far as to occasionally hold hands over the table, so I felt confident that they were going to move past the "just friends" nonsense pretty soon.

Though, as I was leaving, Caroline turned towards Jane and engaged her in conversation, even as she was clearly already engrossed in one with Bingley. Poor Jane was too polite to tell her to bugger off, leaving Bingley with a vaguely forlorn look.

It didn't really concern me. Distracting Jane from Bingley for a little while might even be a good thing. If Jane persisted in showing so much interest, they might move too fast, or get bored.

Charlotte had a different opinion on the matter, of course.

The next day in Charms, I casually asked her whether Caroline had persisted in talking to Jane after I left.

"Yeah," she answered, pointing her wand at the empty glass in front of her. Nothing happened. "Poor Bingley looked a little lost. Jane tried to include him in the conversation, but Caroline always managed to shut him down."

"Ugh, you know Caroline was only talking to her to try to keep her away from her brother."

"You think?"

"Of course! Can't you tell that she doesn't think Jane is good enough for him? I think it's because we're half-blood. And we're not exactly rich."

"I wouldn't be surprised. I'm a little worried she might succeed. Jane doesn't flirt very much, you know."

"_Girls!"_

Charlotte and I jumped in our seats; Professor Chamberlayne was standing in front of us.

"A little less chatter, a little more wandwork. I haven't seen even _one_ drop of water come out of your wands."

"Yes, professor," we chanted, and promptly took up the spell.

Until he walked away.

"What, you think Bingley can't tell she likes him?" I whispered, careful to keep my head forward and occasionally wave my wand.

"He probably can, though I doubt he can tell just how _much. _And he makes his feelings so obvious, but Jane is nice to everyone and serene almost all the time. She should flirt a little more, make it clear, so he'll ask her out for real already."

"Maybe she doesn't want him to. Jane needs time, she's cautious."

"_Too_ cautious. Bingley might not be secure enough to keep paying her so much attention if he doesn't think_ she_ likes _him_ as much as _he_ likes _her_. And right now, I'd say he shows a great deal more affection than she does."

"Yeah, but you can totally tell she likes him."

"No, _you_ can totally tell she likes him. All I'm saying is, if she wants to really date him, she better act like it."

"You're saying Jane should put on _act?"_

"You're twisting my words, Lizzy. I don't mean an _act_, maybe just… show a little more regard for him, openly, maybe even more than she feels if that's what it takes to snag him."

"_Snag_ him? Bloody hell, Charlotte, this isn't hunting!"

Charlotte smirked at me. Dammit, she always knew how to get a rise out of me.

"Fine, Charlotte, preach all you want. You would never actually do it that way yourself, putting on an act just to get a boyfriend, no matter what you might think."

"There's a lot more _acting_ in _dating_ than I think you realize, Lizzy. You can be stunningly naive."

"I am not –"

"_Girls!"_

"Sorry, professor."

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far!

Guest: "I would have assumed after 6 years In a boarding school that everyone would know who was in their year after 6 years" - you are absolutely right, but who are you referring to? Lizzy and Jane are in 6th year, Bingley and Darcy in 7th year, Caroline is in 5th (she was just made a Prefect this year, new prefects are in 5th).

Maybe I should have made some of the years clearer. Thank you for pointing that out :)


	6. The Eye of the Snob

Chapter Six: The Eye of the Snob

I swear if Darcy does not stop staring at me I'm going to _wring his neck_; I don't care that he's Head Boy and could give me detention for the rest of my life. There's only so much a girl can take.

At first I thought I was having one of those delusions of self-importance, imagining that everyone was paying much more attention to me than they actually were. But honest, every single time we're thrown together, his eyes are almost always on me. And it's getting more frequent.

Like our first Hogsmeade trip of the year. It was early October, and I made the walk there with Jane, the rest of my sisters, Bingley, Charlotte, Caroline and _him_. The walk went pretty well, all things considered; I was about ready to cry tears of joy when I saw that Bingley and Jane were holding hands. It amazed basically everyone to know that they were still not "official", but they _had_ to be like two seconds away from it.

Jane and Bingley walked slightly ahead of the rest of us, and Lydia and Kitty walked slightly behind. Mary walked next to us, but she had her nose in a book the entire time; I had to occasionally grab her arm to keep her on the path.

As for me, Charlotte, Darcy and Caroline, we stayed in pairs and were absorbed in our separate conversations; or at least I thought we were.

In the middle of my rant about the upcoming Quidditch match, Charlotte suddenly nudged me, and nodded her head slightly to the right, where Darcy and Caroline were walking.

I looked over, and was perturbed, though pretty unsurprised, to find Darcy's eyes on me. He looked away when we made eye contact, but it always started this way. He'd look away at first, but eventually he'd hold eye contact for longer and longer. Was he trying to convey his disapproval telepathically?

That's what I had decided he was doing, by the way; trying to convey how much he disliked me by boring a hole through my forehead with his eyes. What else could it be? There were basically two possibilities for such constant staring. The first was that he thought I was pretty or something, and he was staring to gaze upon my awe-inspiring beauty. The conversation I'd overheard at the party made that impossible. Which left only the second reason: he was trying to find things that were wrong with my appearance.

And he had a lot of things to choose from that day. I had woken up late, so I pulled a Charlotte and wore my wrinkly pajama shirt and a pair of jeans. Plus, I didn't pull my hair up like I normally do, resulting in this being the first time I wore my hair down the entire school year. I hadn't even bothered to brush it. _And _it was windy. Comparing my hair to a bird's nest that day would have been an unflattering comparison for the _nest_.

"Have you noticed how often Darcy stares at you?" Charlotte whispered after he looked away.

"Yeah. I guess he finds something new to sneer at every day."

"Yeah… I'm sure that's it."

…..

Once we got to Hogsmeade, Lydia and Kitty were off like a shot towards the Shrieking Shack (apparently that's where the boys they were currently interested in hung out).

"Meet us in the Three Broomsticks later!" I called after them.

Kitty turned and, giggling, gave a thumbs up; Lydia gave no indication that she'd heard.

"_What_ are we going to do about them?" Mary sighed, finally stowing her book away in her bag. "What kind of future are they going to have if they carry on this way?"

"They're young, Mary," Jane chimed in. She and Bingley (still holding hands) had finally rejoined us, as we were all standing in the street now. "I think it's a bit early to be worrying about their futures."

Darcy cleared his throat. He had a little eyebrow raise going on, as though he found this statement somewhat surprising. But when everyone looked at him, he just said "Perhaps we should go somewhere. Instead of just standing in the street."

Caroline giggled, and touched Darcy's arm. He raised his eyebrow again. That eyebrow is pretty much the only way he conveys any feelings.

"Absolutely right, Darcy!" Bingley announced. "How about Honeydukes?"

"I love Honeydukes!" Jane smiled.

"Oh wow, another thing they both love," Charlotte muttered, but she was smiling.

"Alright then, let's go!" I clapped my hands and started moving, trusting the others to follow. Mary headed off towards Tomes and Scrolls instead, for some boring book about how to do something boring. Alchemy, I think.

But the rest of us journeyed to that magical land of candy, that happened to be one of my greatest weaknesses in the wizarding world. I had a strict training regime for Quidditch, and that involved _not_ eating my weight in candy. I'm sure I'd be fine just _looking_ though...

…..

"Chocolate Frogs are on sale!"

"_Lizzy."_

"But they're on _sale, _Charlotte!"

"You remember a month ago, when you made me swear on my life that I would help you keep with your training?"

"Yes, but –"

"And that no matter how much you begged me, I would not let you slack on it?"

_Damn you, Charlotte._ _Damn you for doing what I asked you to._

"Thanks, Char," I grumbled, placing the box back on the shelf. Charlotte let go of my wrist.

It was very rude of Honeydukes to put the Chocolate Frogs right at the front of the store. They must have known they were my favorite.

Shoot, I lost the train of my rant again... Darcy! Right!

We had been in Honeydukes for a couple of minutes, and I was _not_ venturing very far into the store. I needed no more temptation. So Charlotte and I were just talking, waiting for the others, when Kyle Goulding, a Ravenclaw sixth year (who Charlotte totally used to have a crush on in fourth year), came up to us and started making small talk. Pretty normal stuff.

But after about a minute he started looking behind me and Charlotte every couple of seconds. At first I thought his eyes were just wondering to people walking into the store or something, but then he just got a really skeeved out look on his face, muttered a goodbye and walked away.

Startled, I turned to look behind me, and noticed that Darcy was standing not too far away, glaring at me hardcore.

_What the fuck, man? _

Charlotte saw him too, and she seemed to find this infinitely amusing, because _she_ muttered a quick goodbye too and walked off. Then, to my _infinite shock and horror_, Darcy walked _closer_ to me.

And started _talking._

To _me._

Like, intentionally.

Why does he so continually seek out someone he doesn't like? Is he a masochist?

"I couldn't help but overhear-" _bet you could_ "-you talking about Potions."

_What do you want me to say to that, dude? That's just a statement of fact, that is in no way open to a response._

"Yeah… we were."

A beat.

"That ingredient you were trying to name? It's belladonna."

I blinked.

"Oh. Thanks."

We had been trying to think of the name of that towards the _very beginning_ of the conversation. How long had he been creeping there?!

He didn't speak again, and he didn't walk away either. So we just _stood_ there for almost a minute. I was hoping the others would be done soon and would come and rescue me. Why didn't he walk away though?! He was done showing off his knowledge of potions ingredients. I guess he just wanted to stay close to the exit, since happy things like candy rot his soul.

I'm not usually one who feels the need to fill silences, but this one was just _so awkward_ that after a minute I couldn't stand it anymore.

"So," I spoke so suddenly that I think Darcy got whiplash from turning so fast. I suppressed a gleeful smile. "What did you think of the way I convinced Kyle to get his essay done by tomorrow? Did I light a fire under his ass or what?"

"It wasn't exactly a surprising feat. You're a Quidditch captain; you wouldn't be very qualified for the job if you couldn't motivate people."

Wow. What most people would have been able to make sound like a compliment, he managed to make a snide insult. Had he ever even had a conversation before?

"What about Quidditch?" Jane asked, walking up beside me. Bingley was still attached to her hand, and lucky Charlotte trailed behind them with Caroline, who seemed to be talking her ear off. She stopped when she spotted Darcy, though.

"Darcy, _there_ you are!"

Pushing Jane and I apart to make her way through, Caroline glided up to Darcy and stood much closer than I'm sure he enjoyed. I failed to hide my gleeful smile this time. Maybe I liked Caroline after all; she was a special brand of Darcy torture.

"We were talking, and then I turned and you weren't there anymore! Separated by the crowd?" Caroline asked, in what I imagine she thought was a sympathetic voice.

Darcy side-eyed her, then nodded.

_Yeah, right_.

The rest of the Hogsmeade trip went on largely like that. We'd all go into stores as a group, and Jane and Bingley would wander off on their own, with Caroline only tagging along to bother them occasionally. Usually she stuck by Darcy as much as she could, but he seemed good at evading her...

And firmly planting himself by _me_. He would just stand around glaring at things, usually me, but sometimes, when Charlotte and I started talking to other people, he'd inch closer and just kind of stand there… like a strange mannequin that's just _present_, with no apparent interest in actually joining the conversation. He just made everyone feel vaguely uncomfortable.

Erica Metcalfe had the nerve to actually ask him a direct question, which he answered, but he didn't seem pleased. Gave as short of an answer as he possibly could and then went back to stone-faced silence.

_Gee, I wonder why he doesn't have more friends._

…..

Hogsmeade trips are rarely not good (even Darcy couldn't ruin the fun completely); but some parts are better than others, and my favorite part was always the last hour, when at least half of the student body was gathered in the Three Broomsticks. The laughing and screaming and the occasional burst of light from a rogue wand reminded me of the happy chaos of our backyard on a nice summer day. Or the Gryffindor common room when there was a snow storm and everyone was stuck inside.

In this case, there was a sudden _rain_ storm, forcing everyone to seek refuge inside a little earlier than they would have otherwise, and leaving the Three Broomsticks over crowded with wet students, all clamoring at the poor bartenders for Butterbeer.

"I'll go get us some!" Bingley said valiantly, after we had managed to squeeze through the crowds and snag a small table. "Come on, Darcy!"

Bingley dragged a clearly reluctant Darcy with him up to the packed bar (at which point Caroline announced that she was going along to help). Jane smiled after Bingley. I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd sighed _"my hero" _and blew kisses to him from afar.

"_Now_ can I start teasing you about the wedding?"

Jane was still looking back towards the bar.

_How dare you ignore my quips?_

"Jane? Helloooooo?"

Charlotte chuckled. "Look, Jane, a kitten!"

That did it. Jane turned, and blinked at us as though coming out of a trance. "Huh?"

"What have you and Bingley been talking about all day?" I asked.

"Oh, anything and everything," she sighed dreamily. "School, family, friends; you know, normal stuff."

"Oh no, _family_? What did you tell him about our parents?"

"Lizzy," came the usual admonishment.

"And the younger sisters?" I continued.

"I told them that we had a large family, and that everyone is very loving and –"

"Ah, Jane speak for obnoxious," Charlotte observed.

"Did he happen to mention when his asshole friend would stop hanging around all the time?"

"Lizzy!" Jane hissed, looking frantically behind her.

"Relax, they're still at the bar," I pointed. They were close to the front at this point. Bingley was facing forward. Caroline was standing close to Darcy as he stared towards the door. She seemed to be trying to get him to talk, judging by the poking of his arm, and what she must have thought were alluring smiles.

"I _was_ actually wondering how they became friends," Charlotte threw in. "They've been best friends for a while, from what I gathered in the Slytherin common room. _Yes_, Lizzy, I did finally get around to asking some other Slytherins about him, and _no_, he is neither part vampire nor part troll."

"That _they_ know," I pointed out.

"Charlie told me they met on the Hogwarts Express their first year," Jane said.

"Well, that kind of explains it," Charlotte said. "A lot of friendships have been started that way."

It was ten more minutes before the others made it back, Darcy and Bingley carrying the bottles of Butterbeer. I was intrigued to find that Caroline was not looking quite so simpering at Darcy anymore. In fact, she was downright _huffy_, arms crossed and not looking at him. Darcy looked predictably unconcerned. I wonder if he even noticed. I also wonder what the hell he might have said to her to actually make her unhappy with him, when it seemed she usually put up with anything he said (or, as was usually the case, _didn't_ say).

Bingley didn't seem to notice, at least not in Jane's presence. He cheerily passed out the bottles (except to me and Charlotte - Darcy gave us ours, and I managed to mumble an audible, albeit begrudging, "thanks"), then took his seat, very close to Jane.

Whether Caroline's irritation with Darcy would have caused her to sit apart from him I never found out, because the only seat left was next to him, so she had no choice.

"I think I saw your sister Mary while we were getting the drinks," Bingley said to Jane and I. He pointed to the other side of the room, where a large group of students was gathered, all using their wands to volley a small ball back and forth to each other.

Mary was trying to stop them.

"Merlin," I sighed. "Some of those other students are prefects too, she isn't going to succeed."

Mary must have been very dedicated to stopping this instance of fun, because she didn't even notice Lydia and Kitty run right by her, each of them holding a guys's jacket. Two boys ran after them, all of them laughing and weaving in and out of other students. And bumping into most of them.

"Obnoxious," I muttered to Charlotte. "But no worse than normal."

Darcy had looked back towards my sisters along with everyone else when Bingley pointed them out, and looked a little… indignant? I think that's the proper word for his expression.

_Oh, I dare you to say something about my sisters. I will mess you up. And don't think Jane will be able to stop me. Jane will _help _me.__  
_

Unfortunately, Darcy ignored my silent provocation, and I had to live with glaring at him.

"How observant you are, Charles," Caroline complimented in a rather exaggerated manner. "Your _eyes_ are _excellent._"

I think Darcy might have actually smirked at this odd comment. Who the hell knows why?

Once the rain cleared up a little, after about an hour and a half, Darcy suddenly stood up without warning and walked to the entrance of the room. I didn't pay him any mind until I heard his voice speak out loudly. He _can_ speak when he wants to, apparently.

"Listen up, everyone!" Heads turned, and the chattering of the students stopped almost instantly. The only times I've ever heard students quiet so quickly are when the Headmaster begins speaking. I guess the Head Boy badge combined with an authoritative tone will almost get you there.

"While the rain has let up, we'd better head back to the castle. We don't want to get stuck here if the rain gets heavy again."

"But we still have half an hour left!" Someone from the back shouted.

"I am aware of that and I do not care. It's for everyone's safety."

A beat.

"_Now!"_

A scene closely resembling the end of the party last month ensued; students reluctantly got up and made their way slowly towards to door, grumbling the entire way.

Bingley chuckled as he stood. "That's Darcy for you. Real take charge."

He grinned at me. He must have noticed my sour face. I wasn't a fan of rain, and I thought the rain might have cleared more if we just waited it out. But I didn't want His Majesty the Head Boy to give me detention for disobeying an emergency order or some shit, so I forced a smile for Bingley and headed for the door with everyone else.

"That was a good decision, Darcy," Caroline praised, once we were back on the path to the castle.

"Yeah, real good," I said, sarcasm bleeding through every word.

The fact that everyone else had remembered to wear a jacket with a hood, while I had forgotten to do, _may_ have added to my bitterness.

I think Darcy realized this as well, because he stared at me for a moment before shrugging off his own jacket, and reaching past Caroline to hold it out to me.

_What the hell?_

"Um, no thanks," I eyed him strangely.

"Come on, I don't care if my hair gets wet," he insisted.

_Your misguided sense of chivalry is not welcome here_.

"I don't either," I lied, pushing his hand back towards him.

He seemed to hesitate.

"She said she doesn't want it, Darcy," Caroline shoved his hand the rest of the way towards him.

He shrugged and slipped the jacket back on.

Charlotte shook with silent laughter.

She likes to watch me suffer.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry this update took a little longer than normal! Classes are about to start again, and I've been busy getting ready. So the next chapter or two might be a closer to two weeks apart than one. Once I get settled in again they should come sooner. :)


	7. The Unexpected Task

Chapter Seven: The Unexpected Task

October 14. Mark that day in your calendar folks, because one of the most momentous occasions in Bennet history happened on this day: Bingley asked Jane to be his girlfriend.

And she said no.

Kidding, kidding. She said yes, obviously, with all the enthusiasm of accepting a marriage proposal (so I'm assuming; I wasn't actually there).

I'm willing to bet a lot of money that mom cried tears of joy when she found out. Lydia wrote to her about two seconds after she heard, and mom sent a truly ridiculous letter detailing how proud she was.

I taught six people one of the most complicated Quidditch plays I know in less than a week, and does she send _me_ an "I'm so proud of you" letter? Big fat NO.

I'm digressing again.

This blessed event seemed to lift a burden off my shoulders that I didn't even know was there. I guess I was more worried about Charlotte's advice than I realized. But Jane playing it cool did _not_ affect Bingley's affection for her, and she ended up happy and in a loving, caring, gushy relationship, so _there_, Charlotte.

With Jane and Bingley off cuddling in the Hufflepuff Common Room, I was secure in my sister's happiness and I could put renewed energy into Quidditch training. Our first game was less than four weeks away, and my Beaters still accidentally hit at least one of the others with their bat every session.

My plan for extra vigor in practice was going pretty well for about a week. The Seeker could find a snitch in the dark, the Chasers were a like well-oiled machine, and we reduced the injuries by nearly thirty percent.

Then October 22nd happened.

I was in the locker room with the rest of the Gryffindor team after our Thursday night practice, giving my critiques/pep talk, which everyone grumbled about it but it's _necessary_ ok?

"Jeffrey, that sneaky little move with the Quaffle, while not against the rules, is highly frowned upon. Make sure you do it at the game. Sabrina, you have _got_ to stay away from the others as much as you can or you'll get distracted –"

_BAM!_ The door to the locker rooms burst open loudly, halting me mid-sentence. We all drew our wands nearly at the same time (we were _all_like a well-oiled machine I tell you), and were about to run out from behind the lockers when Charlotte walked around the corner.

"Lizzy?"

"Charlotte? What the hell are you doing here?"

"She's on the Slytherin team –"

"Don't even go there, Spender," I warned, pointing my wand in his face. I lowered it quickly (I had to break that habit) and turned to Charlotte, who was panting a little.

"What's wrong? Did you run all the way down here?"

"No, but I walked pretty fast. Jane is sick."

My grip on my wand tightened painfully, as did my stomach.

"Go," Bedelia urged. "We'll lock up."

I barely heard her before I high-tailed it out of there, Charlotte running to catch up with me.

"It's not bad, I don't think!" Charlotte hastened to add as we ran. "But Bingley is worried because he doesn't know how to deal with a sick Jane, and he figured you ought to know, so he sent Darcy to find you. So when Darcy couldn't find _you_, he came to me."

I said nothing.

"Lizzy, gees, slow down, I can't run that fast!"

"Thanks for getting me Charlotte, I'll catch up with you later!"

I increased my speed, leaving Charlotte no doubt shaking her head behind me as I entered the castle. I was half way to the Hufflepuff common room before it occurred to me that I hadn't even asked where she was. She might be in the Infirmary. I figured Charlotte would have told me that, though, so I kept going.

When I reached the painting of fruit that marked the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, I tickled the pear and said "Lightening Bug", briefly having the presence of mind to be thankful that the password hadn't changed in the three days since I'd been there.

The painting swung out, almost knocking me over, and I narrowly avoided tripping over my own feet when I burst into the room.

I must have made for a pretty startling image. A sweaty, out of breath girl with hair frizzed out to here and a muddy Gryffindor Quidditch robe, practically barrel rolling into a common room that wasn't hers, looking around frantically; no wonder half the people in it suddenly went silent to stare at me.

Ignoring the strange looks I was getting, I scanned the room, looking for Jane heaving into a trash can, or doubled over in pain, valiantly insisting that she didn't need the Hospital Room, all the while dying a painful death. But all I saw was the normal room, somehow sunny and bright even though it was nighttime. People were studying, practicing spells, talking to friends, caring for plants on the windowsills –

There! At the very back of the room I saw her, lying out on the couch, a small crowd of people surrounding her. Bingley sat on a chair by her head, tenderly stroking her hair (I took a moment to be disgusted at their cuteness); Caroline sat close by, probably being condescendingly sweet to her about her imminent death. A few of her other friends were around, saying their last goodbyes. Farther off, Darcy sat at a table, bent over a piece of parchment, ignoring the deathbed (I took another moment to mentally kick his ass).

Jane spotted me when I was halfway across the room, running towards her, and she smiled at me, looking indulgently disapproving of my antics. Thank goodness. If she had the energy to be exasperated with me, she must be alright.

I threw myself to my knees in front of the couch, and noticed that Bingley was extremely happy to see me, but his sister was another matter. After the startled expression wore off, she gave me a once over, raising her eyebrows when she took in the mud on my robe, and smirked at Darcy, all in the matter of a couple seconds.

But I had no time to be not-so-indulgently exasperated with _her_ antics at the moment, and I focused on Jane.

"Lizzy, how did you know?" She asked, her scratchy voice startling me.

"That was my doing, darling," Bingley informed her. _Oh, god, not the pet names_.

"It's not that bad," Jane said. "It's just a cold, really."

This "just a cold" amounted to a sore throat, a fever, and a headache, not to mention the exhaustion, and had apparently started coming on mildly for the past two days. It was only today that she got so bad she had to skip her last class to come back here and rest. Bingley was beside himself with worry when he found her asleep there, and he called for Caroline and Darcy to get their opinion. Caroline convinced him to send for me, since I would know best what to do. I was panicked for a moment, thinking I would have to be grateful towards her now for this show of helpfulness, but the next words out of her mouth effectively squashed that notion.

"I'm surprised you didn't notice she was sick before, Lizzy. Aren't twins supposed to sense these things?"

"Lizzy has been very busy with Quidditch practice," Jane squeezed my hand, giving me her "don't you dare feel guilty" face. _Too late, Jane. _

"Well, not anymore," I said. "I'm cancelling all practice until you get better."

I ignored Jane's protest, and went off to the kitchens to snag her some soup.

…..

The Hufflepuffs had by now gotten over the presence of so many students from other houses in their common room, and barely spared my Gryffindor tie a second glance when I walked in after my last class the next day. Not to stereotype, but it helped that Hufflepuffs are generally a more congenial lot than the other houses; I'm pretty sure Darcy was going to have an aneurysm if he received one more polite "good morning".

Jane, despite being weakened by the cold, had adamantly refused both going to the hospital wing ("you know colds can't be cured, Lizzy, you just have to wait them out") and letting me skip classes to stay with her ("I will not have you neglecting Quidditch _and_ school for me, Lizzy"). Thankfully, a sick Jane was a soft spot with _all_ of her sisters, so between us, Charlotte, Bingley and Caroline, someone was with her all day.

At the moment, it was Bingley, Lydia and Kitty sitting with her. I was both amused and horrified, wondering what Lydia and Kitty might have said to him. I hoped they left out the Jane Chicken Pox story of '08. Bingley might not have been ready to handle that.

Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, I hurried over to the couch, where Jane was sitting up, talking quietly to Bingley while Lydia and Kitty chatted on her other side. Hopefully that was what it had been like most of the time they were there.

"How are you doing, Jane?" I asked, kneeling in front of her.

"I'm a little better," she smiled. Her voice did sound a little less hoarse, but more congested. A plastic bag lay on the table in front of her, full of used tissues. Lovely.

"She's been practically blowing her brains out through her nose all day," Kitty said.

"Ugh, Kitty! Gross much?" Lydia made a gagging motion, while Jane blushed. Bingley laughed and tightened his arm around her shoulder.

"Are you sure you don't want me to skip my next class, Jane?" He asked softly. "We're just tending the same plants again, I won't miss anything."

"I'm sure, Charlie; go! Bad enough _I_ have to miss class," she practically shoved him off the couch, and he laughed again, kissing her on the cheek before he grabbed his book bag and left.

I waited until the door had swung closed behind him, then plopped down on the seat he had vacated.

"Okay, Jane, how bad were they? Did they tell him anything embarrassing? He doesn't know that mum is already planning your wedding, does he?"

"Hey!" Kitty protested. "We're not _that_ bad."

"We're not stupid," Lydia insisted. I held my tongue. "We wouldn't want to scare him away."

"They were very friendly," Jane patted Lydia's shoulder. "Everyone has been very helpful. Mary was here earlier, and she was kind enough to write my Potions essay as I dictated it to her. "

"Bingley and his sister even dragged that stud-muffin Darcy in for a little while," Kitty giggled. "And guess what they talked about? You!"

I barked out a laugh. "What did they find to criticize about me now? I wasn't even here!"

"Lizzy, they don't –"

"You're appearance yesterday, apparently," Lydia said, charming her fingernails different colors as she spoke. "Caroline was going on and on about how muddy your uniform was, and how you were all sweaty and stuff-"

"What? I don't remember Caroline saying anything like that!" Jane insisted.

"Oh, I forgot, this was after you fell asleep," Lydia continued. "Anyway, Caroline said she thought it was totally overreacting to come rushing in here looking like that just because your sister has a cold –"

"And then she asked Darcy 'wouldn't you just be appalled if _your_ sister had such a little fit?'" Kitty jumped in.

"Darcy has a sister?"

"Hey, who's telling the story?" Lydia swatted Kitty's shoulder, both of them ignoring my question.

"Darcy didn't say anything, and Caroline said something about "fine eyes" in like the nastiest tone, but Jane started sneezing so we couldn't hear all of it. We couldn't hear Darcy's response either. He might not have said anything, because he glanced over at us, and Caroline saw and finally figured out that she shouldn't be talking about you in front of us, even though it looked like we weren't paying attention –"

"We were pretending to be reading _Witch Weekly, _but really we'd already finished."

"Don't be dense, Kitty, we were pretending to study –"

"We were not, that wasn't until after Mary showed up –"

"I think you must have misheard," Jane croaked and sniffled. "I'm sure Caroline would never say anything like that."

"Jane, Caroline is not this angelic creature you make her out to be," I rolled my eyes.

"She's not that ill-natured, either!" The vehemence of Jane's protests brought on a coughing fit, and I instantly felt like an ass for getting her worked up.

"They easily could have misheard," I conceded gently, rubbing her back. "Lydia, Kitty, I've got it, don't you two have classes soon?"

"Not for another twenty minutes," Lydia grumbled, but she and Kitty mercifully accepted the dismissal and began packing up their things.

"Caroline has been nothing but sweet to me," Jane said once the coughing had subsided. "I honestly don't think she'd be that mean about you, Lizzy."

"I know, I know," I soothed, keeping my thoughts to myself for a change. I'd save my diatribes against Caroline for after Jane got better. Maybe I'd be able to make her see Caroline's true character.

I was worried for a little while that night that it would be _my_ opinion that would have to change. Caroline _was_ very nice to Jane when she came over with Bingley and Darcy (must he go with them all the time?). She had brought her fresh tissues, which I hadn't thought to do, and she included her in her conversation with Bingley.

Thankfully, she gave that up after about ten minutes, and strode over to where Darcy sat at a nearby table, and went back to not caring a lick about my sister. Hatred restored. Of course, Darcy showed absolutely no interest in Jane. He barely even waved at her when he came in, studiously ignored me, and went straight to the table closest to my side of the couch and whipped out a textbook. There was also a table on the _other_ end of the couch, _away_ from me, so why he couldn't choose that one I don't know. The better to psychokinetically burn me with his glare, I suppose.

Jane's headache finally receded enough to be able to read, thanks to a drought Mary had brought her from the nurse (which I also hadn't thought to do – damn, I am terrible at caring for people). So, nine o' clock that night had me, Jane, Bingley, Caroline and Darcy all spread out around the back of the Hufflepuff common room, each doing our own thing.

Nine fifteen that night had Caroline getting tired of that shit, and scooting her chair closer to Darcy, where they both still sat at the table. It was barely five feet from them on the couch, which I was using to rest my legs on while I laid on the floor reading, so I could hear every word they said. Though it was mostly Caroline's words.

"You sure are concentrating hard, Darcy," she praised. I glanced over, and was unsurprised to see her practically resting her head on his shoulder. He didn't take his eyes off the parchment. "What are you writing?"

"A letter to my sister."

_Ah, the mysterious sister._

"You write to your sister even though you go to the same school?"

_What the what?_

"Georgy loves receiving letters."

"Oh, Darcy, you really are an amazing brother."

_Could you lay it on any thicker, Caroline? Gees._

"Tell her that I _adore_ that painting she made you for your birthday, it was _fabulous_."

_Guess you can._

"Didn't you tell her that yourself last week?"

_Was she that condescending to her face?_

"Oh, right. She's just one of the most talented young women I've ever met, Darcy, really. No doubt owing largely to _you_. You're so diligent, encouraging her to keep up with her studies, and forming useful hobbies. She's advanced well beyond everyone in her year, hasn't she?"

"You can't give Darcy all the credit for Georgy being a prodigy, Caroline," Bingley grinned, looking up from his book. "She's a Ravenclaw, after all."

"Georgiana is naturally very intelligent," Darcy stated, turning back to his letter. "But children need proper encouragement to develop their skills."

"How old is she?" Jane asked.

"Thirteen."

_You talk about her like she's five._

"And she enjoys school?" Oh, Jane; determined to draw Darcy into a conversation. Will she never understand that he's incapable of even the most basic social skills?

Then again, with Caroline around, he didn't _have _to talk much.

"Oh, Georgiana loves school!" She gushed. "She's quite the young lady. So well-rounded, too!"

"It's amazing how well-rounded girls are," Bingley said. "It's not enough to be good in school; it seems like every girl I know is good at other things, too. Jane draws, Caroline designs clothes, Lizzy has Quidditch, Georgy paints –"

"The term 'well-rounded' is used far too often," Darcy drawled. "If every girl on the planet deserves the praise, it's clearly not much praise at all. There are really only a small percentage who really earn the title."

"So,_ you're_ an expert on what makes women worthy of praise?" I snapped, leaning up on my elbows from the floor. I would have gotten up all the way, but I knew my laying on the floor disgusted Caroline.

Darcy blinked, his eyebrow raised in indignation that a mere peasant would disrupt His Royal Highness The Head Boy.

"I believe I have a better understanding of what merits the term 'well-rounded' than some people seem to."

"Please, enlighten me, oh wise one," I was pretty proud of how sarcastic that sounded. I was bringing my A game. "What makes a well-rounded woman?"

"I know exactly what he's going to say," Caroline said smugly. I thought I might have seen Darcy roll his eyes at that, but it might have been a trick of light; surely he knows that might betray an _emotion?_

"A _young lady_," she emphasized this phrase, staring at me pointedly. I slumped back fully on the floor again, smirking. She sniffed haughtily. "A young lady should be intelligent, health-conscious, good natured, able to hold a conversation about substantial topics, goal-oriented, have productive hobbies, and be strongly principled, I believe. Did I get them all?"

"She should be well-read, as well."

I snapped my book shut.

"No wonder you think there's only a small percentage of women who fit the criteria. With a list like that, I'm surprised you think _anyone_ could."

"Really, Lizzy, you think your entire gender incapable of being well-rounded?" Caroline echoed my derisive smirk from before.

"I doubt any one woman could be all of those things all the time."

"Caroline may have been exaggerating my criteria a little," Darcy put down his quill and fixed me with his stare. "But I don't think my idea of a well-rounded woman, or a well-rounded _person_, for that matter, is that far-fetched."

"This model for perfect womanhood you've cooked up is ridiculous! No one should expect that much of one person. Haven't you ever heard of accepting people as they are?"

"Haven't you ever heard of bettering yourself?"

"I don't suppose you have a set list of criteria for the ideal_, _well-rounded _male_, do you?"

"As a matter of fact -_"_

"Anyone want to play a game of Wizard's Chess?" Bingley interjected hastily, trying to forestall further conflict. Darcy blinked, as though snapping out of a trance, and quickly looked away from me back to his letter.

"I'm a little too tired to play, but I'd love to watch," Jane's smile was a little forced. "Maybe Caroline will play with you?"

Faced with the imploring looks of her brother and a sick Jane, and Darcy's renewed indifference to anything but his letter, Caroline sighed and conceded. I picked up my book again, but my anger was making it difficult to see straight. Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins, and I felt like I wanted to curse something into a million tiny pieces. Preferably Darcy's head. I really, really hoped Jane would get better soon. I wasn't sure how long I could survive trapped in the same space as Darcy.

I closed my book and turned to Bingley and Caroline, who were breaking out the chess board.

"How about Exploding Snap instead?"

At least something would blow up.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry this chapter took so long! Classes starts tomorrow, and as long as they aren't too insane this semester, I should have the next one up sooner.


	8. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

Chapter Eight: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

_Lizzy, _

_How is my dear Jane doing? Her last letter was very short. She said she was too tired to write much because she's sick! I am _so _proud of her. Not only has she gotten a boyfriend, and that _rich_ Charlie Bingley to boot, but she's gotten him so enamored that he's willing to care for her when she's sick! What a _catch_ that young man is! I can't wait for Jane to bring him home so I can meet him! _

_Now, don't you go crowding them too much! Jane said you and your sisters were taking care of her along with Charlie, Caroline, and some friend she didn't name. Can't you and the others leave her with Charlie? If he never gets any time alone with her he may lose interest! It's just a cold, Lizzy, she'll be fine without you keeping constant watch over her. You were always so strange about Jane when she was sick. _

_Oh, your father wants me to say hello from him. Why he can't just write you his own letter I simply do not understand. _

_Are your classes going alright? Mary has gotten perfect marks on all of her assignments so far, but she tells me that you, Lydia and Kitty have all neglected to do several of your assignments. She even offered to assist you, and you all refused quite rudely. I swear, Lizzy –_

Grunting aggressively, I crumbled the letter without reading the rest and threw it violently into the fire. I didn't spare it a second glance as I stormed across the Hufflepuff common room to the couch where Bingley and Jane sat, Darcy and Caroline at the usual table next it. Though they each had a book in front of them, they were in conversation with Bingley and Jane. At least they had been when I first came into the common room five minutes ago.

Jane was finally on the mend, most of her symptoms starting to subside, so I felt alright not cancelling today's Quidditch practice. It ran a lot longer than I expected though. For some reason, the huge downpour of rain affected us a bit.

Consequently, it was well after dark by the time I dragged my muddy self inside. Noticing that it was just Jane and the three musketeers, absorbed in a conversation, I decided to delay my joining of their group for a minute, ostensibly to warm up by the fire. But I really wanted to read the letter that I had gotten that morning (and by some magic – I can't remember the damn spell – it hadn't gotten soaked, even though I had carelessly left it in my pocket all day in the rain). I didn't want to read it at breakfast; mom's letters rarely left me unperturbed, so I usually preferred to read them in relative privacy.

Anyway, once I got to the back of the room, I learned that my fit of parchment arson had not gone unnoticed.

"What did it ever do to you?" Bingley chuckled, absentmindedly stroking Jane's hair. None of them commented on my bedraggled appearance, apparently haven gotten used to it by now. Even Caroline only gave me one raised eyebrow.

"It insulted my honor," I deadpanned, perching on the arm of the couch. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Where we want to live when we graduate," Jane said.

"They were all just teasing me because I can't decide," Bingley informed me.

"I expect your career may force your hand," Darcy observed. "As you hate most magical forms of travel, you'll have to live in the city to be close to the Ministry."

"The city is far superior to the country anyway, Charles," Caroline said, not lifting her eyes from the book she was pretending to read.

"I do love the country so, though."

"Then live in the country," Darcy shrugged.

"But I love the city, too!"

I laughed. "You'd love it wherever you went, Bingley, I'm sure. If you had to live in a box in the desert, you'd think it was _quaint_ and _pleasantly sunny_."

"Oh, so you know me that well already, do you?" Bingley grinned.

"Of course!" I proclaimed, standing up and conjuring up a magnifying glass. I put it very close to Bingley's face, much to his and Jane's amusement, and pretended to be scrutinizing him. I didn't look, but I'd bet a galleon that Darcy was glaring at me again.

"Yes… yes…" I stroked my fake beard. "Yes, I understand you perfectly." I gave Jane a thumbs up, and she giggled.

"I didn't know you were a professional personality dissector," Caroline said disdainfully.

_Wanna hear what I think of _your_ personality, Caroline?_

"Not a professional, an amateur," I said regally. "I like to observe people."

"Must be frustrating being in Gryffindor, then," Darcy said.

I waited for him to elaborate, but he just kept staring at me. Guess that was all he was willing to offer up at the moment.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not bothering to disguise my impatience. I stood between the table and the couch now, facing Darcy with my arms crossed.

_The better to be confrontational with, my dear._

"Well, Gryffindors have a tendency to wear their personalities on their sleeves, Elizabeth. Surely you can figure out most people in your house in a couple of minutes. That can't be very entertaining. You'd have a more difficult time in say, Ravenclaw or Slytherin."

I scoffed. "First of all, _Darcy_, just because a person's character is less easily discernible than others, doesn't make it better. Secondly, you're painting a stereotype of a house, and it is totally _wrong_ –"

"Lizzy," Jane said softly, a warning; which I ignored.

"- Gryffindors happen to be very complex, and even if they are more open with themselves, there's always something new to find in them. And in everyone, for that matter."

"I didn't mean to upset you," Darcy continued, annoyingly calm. _Like hell you didn't_. "I merely meant that people who are… less _'open with themselves'_, must provide a more interesting subject for study."

"I suppose you think your house would be the best example of this?"

"I mentioned Ravenclaw as well, if you'll recall."

"I'm sure everyone feels their house to be superior in some way," Bingley cut in, a little nervous. I finally noticed how uncomfortable our argument had made Jane and Bingley. They really _hate_ confrontation. Caroline looked frustrated, glancing rapidly between me and Darcy.

"Oh, yeah, everyone thinks their house is the best," I said, my tone lighter than my mood. Darcy really knew how to get under my skin, and fast.

"A trait you share?"

_Darcy, seriously, just stop talking to me, god you are so infuriating –_

"Well, of course," I said, keeping up my newly jovial tone. "Gryffindor _is_ the best."

Darcy raised his eyebrow at this.

"Well, _one _of the houses has to be the best. It's not the others' faults that it happens to be Gryffindor."

Bingley and Jane laughed at this perceived joke, and Caroline rolled her eyes. But I think Darcy could tell that I really meant it.

Tired of a conversation in which she had little part, Caroline took this opportunity to change the subject.

"I haven't seen your friend Charlotte around recently. The two of you are usually almost as inseparable as you and Jane. Are you fighting or something?"

The sugary-sweet tone that she infused into her condescending remarks was really grating on my nerves, but I plastered on a grin that was as fake as hers.

"No, she's just paranoid about getting sick. With Jane getting better, she doesn't feel the need to assist me in my vigil."

Apparently having no other ideas for subjects that might wound me, Caroline turned back to her book – which may as well have been upside down, for all that she was actually comprehending in it. Darcy had long since turned his attention back to his, though come to think of it, I hadn't seen him turn the page in a long time.

Maybe they were both secretly illiterate.

…..

"Gosh, Darcy, you write so fast!"

"I write slower than average, actually."

"Probably because you make your lines so even! Mine always end up being crooked."

"Hmm."

"And you have such wonderful handwriting! I wonder how you can write so fast and still so neat!"

"… Thank you."

They had been going on like this for some time. Caroline just couldn't pretend to find her book interesting for the entire night, after all. She stood behind his chair, peering over his shoulder at the parchment in front of him. Darcy practically radiated irritation; dude looked like he was miserable.

So, needless to say, _I_ was enjoying this immensely.

"Ancient Runes just looks so difficult! I can't imagine having to translate all of that."

"Fortunate that you elected not to take the class, then."

"Your quill looks a little dull, do you want me to get you a new one?"

"No. I'll fix this one when it starts to bother me."

"That's so interesting Darcy, how you always use that old thing."

Darcy offered no comment to that. Caroline fumbled around for a new comment a bit, electing to walk a circle around the table, staring Darcy down the entire time. It's hard to describe how bizarre she looked. Like, her head kind of stayed focused in his direction even as her body moved around. She looked like a strange, predatory bird.

Until she turned to focus on me, and a terrifying smile overcame her face. It was her fake Barbie smile, but even more sickeningly sweet. I lifted an eyebrow, then went back to looking at my book, but she failed to take the hint, and walked over to me.

"Lizzy," she said, rather loudly for a person who was only two feet away from me. "Why don't you come with me, and we can walk around the room together? It's such a lovely common room, and I've been cramped up inside all day. I could use the exercise."

_I don't see why you need my help to accomplish that_.

The words were almost out of my mouth when I glanced over at Jane, whose face was threatening to split in half with the size of her grin. I could see how this would look to her; her boyfriend's sister and her own beloved twin, getting along at last. One big, happy family.

I sighed, and, ignoring her proffered hand, got up off the floor. She linked her arm through mine, and steered us past the couch.

It was when we turned around, towards the table where Darcy sat, that I realized what her aim must be. She knew Darcy couldn't resist such an opportunity to stare at me in critical disgust, so she hoped to look favorable to him in comparison. Or perhaps she didn't care what emotions his stare held, so long as they were aimed closer to her.

Caroline pretended to be surprised at Darcy's focus, and smiled a dark, evil little smile.

"Want to join us, Darcy? You've been sitting all day, as well."

"Thank you for the invitation, Caroline, but I know you don't actually want me to," he drawled, then picked up his quill again and began to write anew.

Caroline gasped with exaggerated astonishment. We circled around his table, Caroline pretty much dragging me by this point, and she stage-whispered to me: "What do you think he means by that, Lizzy?"

"Whatever it is, it's not good," I real whispered. "And he wants us to ask him about it, so just don't say anything. It'll drive him nuts."

Clearly having no intention of heeding my advice, she turned her head to look at Darcy and said "What do you mean by that, Darcy?"

I noticed that, though the common room was rather large, we were focusing our little walk on the area around the back. We were never out of Darcy's eyeline, and rarely out of his earshot. This was one of the strangest things I had ever participated in; being dragged around the Hufflepuff common room by Jane's boyfriend's little sister, whom I did not like at all, talking to Jane's boyfriend's best friend, whom I liked even less. Bingley and Jane were whispering to each other on the couch, blissfully ignorant of my discomfort.

Darcy waited until we got closer to the table again before answering Caroline's question.

"There are only two possible reasons why you and Lizzy would be walking around the room, and I'd interfere with either of them by joining you. You are either whispering exclusive secrets to each other, which I would obviously get in the way of; or, you know that your robes billow around your legs when you walk, putting your bodies' to their best advantage. And I can see you much better from here than if I were walking with you."

_Oh, of all the assuming little – ugh! Obviously Caroline had that in mind, but to lump _me_ in with her motives? You asshole, you steaming pile of –_

Caroline, astonishingly, _giggled_ at this speech. "What a shocking declaration, Darcy! Lizzy, we _have_ to –"

"So, you've got us all figured out, have you Darcy?" I kept my voice level, though my eyes, I knew, were shooting daggers. I disengaged my arm from Caroline's and walked to stand opposite Darcy, across the table. He raised his eyebrows at my approach, and his cold, dark eyes bored holes in mine to match my daggers. "We can't just have been stretching our legs, there has to be another motive. You can see right through everything we do, can't you?"

"When the motives are as transparent as that little display, yes, I think I can see through them fairly easily."

"So, what are _your_ secret motives in just sitting there and criticizing us? If everything has an ulterior motive, you must have some other intention than just being a –"

"Lizzy," Jane cleared her throat nervously from the couch, but I barely heard her. Darcy's eyes had narrowed now; I think I had managed to eek out a genuine emotion from him – anger.

"What's got you so defensive?" He asked, mock innocently. But he had let the quill fall from his fingers, and put his hands together on the table in front of him. I knew enough about body language to know that he was trying to control himself.

"What's got you so _offensive?"_

"Caroline asked me a question, I was merely giving the honest answer."

"What you _felt_ to be the honest answer," I leaned my hands on the table. "You can't claim to know what's going on in someone else's head, you know. Just because you see a certain motivation in someone's actions, doesn't mean that's the one that's actually there."

"Of course, I could be wrong. I don't claim to be without faults, but I have always prided myself on my understanding. I think I can look at a situation and, with enough consideration – or, in this case, enough transparency in the actions of those involved – be able to discern the underlying motives."

"Do you do this often?" I asked, in the haughtiest voice I could muster.

"Do _you_? I seem to recall an earlier conversation about your proclivity for examining people's personalities. Not a dissimilar study from situational observation."

"_Music?!_" A shrill voice suddenly sounded from very close to my ear. I jumped, startled. I hadn't noticed how close I had gotten to Darcy while we were arguing until I jumped away from him.

I turned to the owner of the shrill voice, Caroline, as she waved her wand and made a radio appear above the table.

"What do you guys say? It's Saturday night, why isn't this room more lively?"

Music started, but I hardly took notice. I turned back to Darcy to see that he had unclenched his hands, but was still staring at me.

Jane came up behind me.

"The music will probably aggravate my headache. I'm going to turn in."

She gave me a look, I smiled reassuringly, and then she headed off to the girl's dorms.

Looking back, I'll wonder why I didn't just switch Caroline's stupid music off so she could stay.

I'll also wonder why I didn't _leave_ when Jane went to bed, but stayed there instead, flopping back onto the floor with my book, determinedly ignoring the music, and the people who had started gathering around. I was kind of operating in a daze after my argument with Darcy. It was the most openly hostile we had ever been to each other. I had begun to worry that we wouldn't be able to keep our hatred in check even for Bingley and Jane's sake. Thankfully, Jane was getting much better, so I could soon leave her side without feeling guilty.

About an hour later, the Hufflepuff common room was a lot livelier than it had been; the music, besides achieving Caroline's object of getting Darcy to stop talking to me (even though we were about to _strangle_ each other, so I didn't understand why she'd feel like she had to stop us. I guess she didn't want me to strangle _him_), had also gotten a small dance party happening.

The front half of the room was still dedicated to students studying or talking quietly or playing their own games of chess or whatever, but the back half was now full of about fifty students dancing in a space they had cleared by moving furniture around.

I was sitting between these two sides, reading, when my head finally cleared from the angry haze it had been in before, and I realized that I was in the wrong common room for no reason. I waved my wand and sent my book back over to shelf where I had gotten it, and then stood, preparing to head back to Gryffindor tower.

When I turned around to go to the door, I was startled to find Darcy standing like an inch away from me; I would have bumped into him if I hadn't jumped back in surprise at his looming figure.

_How long had he been there?_ The last time I was aware of him, Darcy was still stubbornly sitting at the table, even though the dancing students were about five feet away from him, the radio blasting music right above his head. It had been satisfying to see that he was silently fuming, as I was.

And now he was standing there, the same carefully controlled expression on his face as I was used to. His hair looked messier though, as if he had been running his hands through it, which was odd. I was used to seeing it perfectly coiffed, as though held in place by magic – hey, it probably was, come to think of it. Not that I cared; I only noticed because it fit so perfectly with his personality: rigid and uptight, down to every last hair on his head.

"This is a good song," he said tonelessly.

_Did you creep all the way over here to tell me that?_

I offered up no response out loud, as I couldn't think of one that wasn't combative. I happened to hate this song; it was one of those slow, moony songs that Mary liked to listen to. Something about losing love at the leaky cauldron. Melodramatic nonsense, in my opinion. But I was putting up a decent effort to not fight with Darcy any more tonight.

Once he finally realized that I wasn't going to respond (which took a lot longer for him to realize than it would have for anyone else), he spoke again.

"Many people seem to find it a good song to slow dance to."

He nodded over my shoulder to the dancing students. Holding in a weary sigh, I looked at them too.

_Yep, they sure are slow dancing, Darce. Any other astute observations?_

"Does it uh… Do you feel the same way about it?"

Oh. I got the picture after that. I remembered the conversation I had heard at the party in September; how much Darcy despised dancing, and condemned the pathetic plebeians who enjoyed the past time.

_I know your game, Darcy_.

Since this so clearly required a response, and I had yet to offer one up, Darcy looked a little confused.

"I asked –"

"I heard you," I finally said. I raised my eyebrows (I really wished I had the ability to only raise one; it would be so useful in these kinds of situations), trying to let him know that I knew what he was about. "But I know why you asked; I can discern people's ulterior motives too."

"Can you?"

"Yes. I know you just wanted me to say that I like dancing, so you can look down on me for it. I happen to _hate_ this song, and I don't feel like dancing at all right now. So I've proven you wrong – hate me if you dare."

At this, I picked up my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, walking away from him in a wonderfully timed dramatic exit, if I do say so myself.

He spoke when I walked past him, so quietly I almost didn't hear.

"Indeed, I do not dare."

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing so far! My heart does a little leap whenever I see a new follower or favorite or review. :)

You guys probably know who is coming up next.


	9. The Madness of Mr Collins

Chapter Nine: The Madness of Mr. Collins

"Good luck, Lizzy!"

"Break a leg, guys!"

"Don't choke!"

"There's a Bludger with your name on it, Bennet!"

"Oh, stuff it, Stone!"

I resisted the urge to throw my fork at him, and hunched back down over my untouched breakfast.

"You doing okay, Lizzy?" Charlotte sat down next to me at the Gryffindor table, nudging a student aside as she did so.

"Yeah," I said reflexively, but I think my shaking hands might have undermined my statement.

"We're gonna do great, Lizzy!" Bedelia, my best Chaser, assured me from across the table. "We've been practicing our butts off. Plus, I heard Ravenclaw is a having a little teamwork problem this year."

I smiled wanly, trying to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach. I needed a distraction…

"Blech! Lizzy! Did you switch out the salt and sugar again?"

"Who, me?"

Charlotte shook her head, glowering, but didn't say anything more. She understood that I needed immaturity to cope with stress.

"You doing alright, Lizzy?"

"Yes, Jane. Where's Bingley?"

"Over at the Slytherin table. Caroline and Darcy wanted to talk to him."

_Ugh, those two assholes._

I bit my tongue. Vicky scooted over so Jane could sit on my other side.

It had been almost a week since the end of my vigil over Jane's illness. The morning after that impromptu dance party, she had gotten so much better that even _my_ sense of over-protectiveness abated. So, I spent only an hour ignoring Darcy's stares (which I have to suppose he thinks are subtle). He had reverted back to ignoring me and never saying a single word, which was infinitely preferable to the constant arguing.

_Although, I could use a good, distracting argument at the moment. I wonder if I could get Charlotte to pick a fight about the salt and sugar thing after all…_

"Ready to go?" Alex, a Beater, asked all of the sudden. The rest of the team was standing up from the table, and I gulped, nodding.

"You'll be great, Lizzy, don't worry," Jane gave me an encouraging smile, as did Charlotte. I tried to return them.

The cheers of the Gryffindor table followed us out of the hall, and I put on a cheery face as I waved and bowed, ignoring the scattered "boos" from the Ravenclaws and a couple Slytherins.

It wasn't like this was my first game. I had done this tons of times over the years, but this was the first game where I was _captain_. The first time people would be looking to _me _for reassurance, to decide what play we should do… to blame me if we lost. The full impact of this responsibility was just hitting me.

"Oh, I'm sorry miss –"

"Watch it, buddy – oh. Uh… no, it's okay."

I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I ran straight into something solid coming out of the Hall. Already in a mood, I was a little miffed, until I looked up at the face of this solid thing. The very, very, _extremely_ attractive face of this solid guy. Apologizing with that lopsided grin…

"Wasn't watching where I was going," he explained. His smile was still crooked… so cute.

He had on a Slytherin tie. I could live with that.

"Haha, me either."

_Oh my god, what was that giggle? You do not _giggle.

"Are you coming, Lizzy?"

I glanced over to my right, where the rest of the team had gotten ahead of me, already at the castle doors. I looked back at the attractive stranger. He glanced down at my Quidditch robes, eyes focusing on the captain's badge for a moment.

"Good luck," his lopsided grin widened and he winked, before walking around me into the Great Hall.

Using all the willpower I possessed, I didn't look back at him as I hurried to catch up with my team. Bumping into a super hot guy; that had to be a good omen, right?

…..

Since I was carried out of the pitch after the game on waves of cheering Gyrffindors, I'd have to say that _yes_, that was a very good omen, indeed.

"We kicked _ass! _I _told_ you, guys!" Bedelia yelled, prompting another wave of cheering from the common room, loud enough to be heard even over the already extreme noise level. The Gryffindor common room was normally pretty loud to begin with, but after a Quidditch victory? It was almost enough to make you deaf.

The noise level was affected by the fact that there were a lot of students from other houses in for the party. No one throws a party like Gryffindors, okay? And everyone except Darcy knows it.

"Are you looking for someone, Lizzy?"

I turned, slightly startled, to Charlotte.

"Hmm? Oh, um… Jane."

"She's over by the fire with Bingley," she pointed, and I looked for show, even though I already knew that was where she was.

I had actually been looking around to see if that hot guy I ran into earlier was here. I knew it was a long shot, since I didn't think I had ever seen him in the Gryffindor common room before, but I thought maybe… oh, well.

_Focus, Lizzy, he wasn't _that _hot_.

_Liar_.

I mean, if _Darcy_ could be here, why couldn't hot guy? And Caroline was a Slytherin too, she had managed to get in here. They both knew me though, by extension of Jane. I suppose literally running into a person wasn't enough of a reason to get into their common room.

"Lizzy! Lizzy Bennet!"

No.

_No._

_Please, Merlin, no_.

"Billy Collins!" I grimaced, turning to face my doom.

"I go by Bill, now, actually."

I sighed in resignation.

Billy Collins was a tiny little rat of a guy. His hair was combed back with what had to have been literal grease, which matched his greasy smile, and he was the only person here wearing their school robes on game day. Even _Darcy_ wasn't so formal.

He had imperiously introduced himself to Jane and me on the Hogwarts Express in our first year. Being a year ahead of us, he felt it was his "duty" to welcome us to Hogwarts. He harbored quite a crush on Jane after that, and approached us at every opportunity. Until I got fed up and punched him in the face.

Two weeks of detention was a very small price to pay.

Ever since then, he had left us alone most of the time; at least never so directly seeking either of us out. Guess that changed.

"I would like to take this opportunity to officially congratulate you on your victory today, Miss Lizzy –"

"Just Lizzy –"

"- And I know what you're thinking –"

"Bet you don't –"

"'_But Bill, you're in Ravenclaw! How can you congratulate Gryffindor for beating your own house?' –"_

"Yep, that wasn't it."

"But I have put aside our house differences in the interest of sportsmanship. I don't believe something like Quidditch should lead to any animosity outside of the field."

"How nice. Hey, _Bill_, you know Charlotte right?"

I grasped Charlotte's shoulder to pull her forward more. She smiled tightly.

"Of course, the lovely Charlotte Lucas! I remember when we met, I was but a fifth year –"

"Hey, Lizzy, don't you love this song?" Charlotte said all of the sudden, looking at me with a gleam in her eyes that I knew from experience boded ill. Suddenly I wished I hadn't switched the sugar and salt this morning…

"Uh, I guess –"

"Bill, Lizzy just _loves_ this song, I'm sure she'd love to dance to it! I have to go!" With that, Charlotte took two steps backwards and effectively disappeared into the crowd.

That's why I so rarely prank Charlotte. Her punishment was always wildly disproportionate to the crime.

Collins's grin widened.

"Well, Miss Lizzy, I would be honored if you would –"

"Um, I can't, Coll – I mean, Bill! Charlotte meant well, but I um… I really have to go talk to my team. Captain's duties, you know? Uh, next time though!" I backed away slowly as I spoke.

"I'll hold you to that, Miss Lizzy!"

He winked. I grimaced.

_I'm sure you will._

…..

Perhaps this was the universe's way of balancing the good and bad in my life. I was happy Jane had a good boyfriend, but the universe had to dampen that with the presence of Darcy. I was happy because we won our first Quidditch game, but the universe had to balance that by throwing Billy Collins back into my life.

That boy knows how to pop up out of nowhere. Walking to class with Charlotte? Billy Collins, with his greasy hair and his "let me escort you to class, ladies". Hanging out by the lake with Jane? Billy Collins, let me lecture you for twenty minutes about how amazing my internship at the Ministry was last summer.

Studying in the library with my sisters? Billy Collins, let me sit down here and ruin your day.

That last one was the latest predicament.

Studying together in the library was something we tried to do at least once a month (that was as frequently as we could possibly get Lydia and Kitty to do it). This was November's sister study session.

That day, about two weeks after the Quidditch game, we were sitting at the table in the middle of the library, which I suppose was our first mistake. Too out in the open. He didn't even have to _try_. But we had our books spread out all over, leaving no room for anyone else. There were two other chairs at the table, but they were currently being used as textbook holders as well.

Like something so trivial would stop Billy Collins.

"What's the name of that plant thing you use in Befuddlement Draught?" Kitty asked, looking up from her parchment.

"Scurvy grass," Mary answered quickly.

"Thanks."

"Ah, writing a Potions essay are you, Miss Kitty?"

_Collins, I am about two seconds away from shoving my wand up your –_

"Miss Lizzy! What a surprise to see you and all of your _beautiful_ sisters here."

Lydia and Kitty made gagging motions behind his back.

"You can just call me Lizzy, you know."

"Ah, so informal though! Miss Jane, how are you? I must congratulate you on your relationship with Charles Bingley, he's quite a good fellow, so I've heard."

"Thank you, Bill. That's nice of you."

She actually meant that, too, in case you thought that Jane's endless kindness had boundaries.

"Mind if I join you?"

Without waiting for an answer, the little snot nose took the books that were stacked on the chair next to me and put them on the floor. Then he actually scooted the chair _closer_ to me.

"We're just studying," I told him, trying to edge away from him subtly. "I'm afraid we're not going to be very entertaining."

"Nonsense! I, as a Ravenclaw, deeply enjoy the pursuit of academic interests. What are you currently studying?"

Would I have to punch this guy in the face again for him to get it? It was a dilemma for me. He wasn't being _mean_ or anything, just extremely irritating, so my conscience couldn't really justify a mean response to him. But I was also very tired of hinting.

I looked around at my sisters desperately, but they were no help. Mary was so concentrated on her book I'm not sure she even realized Collins was there. Lydia and Kitty had _noticed, _but they were sitting at the opposite end of the table, and seemed deeply amused. Jane just shrugged helplessly.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Ah! A most useful subject. Most positions at the Ministry require a N.E.W.T. in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you know, and an O would definitely boost your chances."

"I'm not going into the Ministry," I sighed, then wished I hadn't. Responding to him only fueled the chatterbox fire.

"Oh! Perhaps you are planning to become a Healer? I know that's what Miss Jane wants to do," he took a moment to give her his version of an approving grin. She smiled politely.

"No. I'm going to play Quidditch professionally."

He jerked his head back like I had slapped him, an astonished look coming across his toady little face.

"Oh. I uh… I am aware that many young people feel the desire to play sports at your age, but that usually passes –"

"It won't," I snapped, and brought my book closer to my face, hoping to give him a hint.

"Ah, of course," he smiled condescendingly. A beat. "I'm going to go into the Ministry."

He waited for a reply.

And waited.

It went on for so long I thought he had decided to finally stop talking, and was thanking my lucky stars, before Jane deigned to give him the reply he was looking for.

_Too nice, Jane. You're too nice._

"What department?"

Collins grinned. "As I was telling Miss Lizzy earlier this week, I plan to go into the Department of International Magical Cooperation! You see, from a young age I desired to work for the Ministry, and the Department of International Magical Cooperation always held a particular fascination for me. But it was last summer, when I received a most coveted internship in that department – did I mention that? There aren't a lot of internships available there-, under the Deputy Director of the Department, Catherine DeBourgh, that really solidified in my head the plan to join that Department. I am going to do another internship over the winter break, as I was telling Miss Lizzy earlier."

"What sorts of things do you do at a Ministry internship?" Mary had actually looked up from her book, and was looking genuinely interested in Collins's babbling.

_Yes, _Billy_, why don't you go bother _her?

"Oh, I'm so glad you asked, Miss Mary," Collins beamed at her. "Mostly my duties as an intern included relaying messages back and forth between departments that were for some reason inappropriate to be conveyed through the usual method of paper correspondence, as well as occasionally assisting on projects as the venerable Deputy Director saw fit. Also," here he chuckled this super pretentious little chuckle that was obviously not real, "though it was not in my job description, I would… how do I put this? _Flatter_ her a little bit. You know the thing; tell her how lovely that color makes her eyes look, or how interesting that broach is. Those delicate little compliments, less obvious than those I might give to _younger_ ladies."

He simpered at me. _Why_.

Mary nodded, looking mildly impressed, but she turned back to her book again. When you're inane business talk can't even keep _Mary _interested, you are truly boring to bits.

"Anyway," Collins took a deep breath, preparing for another long speech. I wondered if I could stupefy him without getting in trouble.

"Oh my _god_, would you look at the time?" Lydia burst out all of the sudden. She gave an exaggerated look at the clock behind her. "Lizzy, don't you have Quidditch practice soon? Like, really soon?"

_Bless you, child. I take back everything bad I've ever said or thought about you._

"You're right!" I stood up and started shoving books in my bag. Kitty grinned mischievously along with Lydia. Mary looked mildly perturbed at the interruption. "Thanks for reminding me!"

"But, Lizzy, it's only - "

"Fifteen minutes until practice starts!" I gave Jane a 'go with it' look. She looked disapproving, but said nothing.

So, practice wasn't for another hour. If I had to hear Collins going on about _Catherine DeBourgh_ for one more minute, I would curse his mouth shut. And Jane would disapprove of that much more, anyway.

"Well, please allow me to walk you to the pitch," Collins stood up along with me.

"No, really, that's not necessary –"

"I insist –"

"Well, I insist back –"

"Perhaps," Jane interjected. "You could just walk together as far as you need to go anyway?"

"Well, I suppose I could go to the Great Hall, so –"

"Fine," I said shortly, and walked off. Collins did a little jog to catch up with me.

"Your fiery independence is really a very admirable feature, Miss Lizzy," he told me as we exited the library.

_Gee, thanks, now I feel validated_.

"In fact, the ability to work independently is a quality that is very much desired among the internship candidates for the Department of International Magical Cooperation. As I've tried to tell you numerous times, there is still an available position for an internship over winter break. It's a short one, but it would still give you an advantage for a future job at the Ministry, and if you get a recommendation from an existing intern, you have a much better chance –"

"Gee, Collins, that's a… nice offer, but you know I'm not going to go into the Ministry," I said, as patiently as I could.

"Oh, but it's also very fun! And, since we'd be in the same…"

Collins kept on talking, but all of the sudden his voice became background noise to me, because I saw _him! _Hot guy! Walking right towards us!

I stepped even further away from Collins than I was already walking, and tried to look nonchalant as we approached him from the opposite side of the corridor. He was walking slowly, hands in his jean pockets, looking around casually. He was so hot. That light brown, tousled hair bounced just a little bit with every step…

_Shit, he saw me staring._

He caught my eye, and he looked surprised, and then smiled. We were only about ten feet away from him at this point.

"Hey, Quidditch girl!" He said, and we both stopped once we were within normal speaking distance.

"Yep, that's me," I grinned. I couldn't very well say my nickname for _him. _

_Hey, hot guy. Yeah, that would be subtle. _

"Good job on that game."

"Haha, thanks…"

A small throat clearing noise. I looked to my side to see Collins still standing there, looking this tall stranger up and down with his arms crossed.

_Oh, you're still here._

"Uh… this is my _friend_, Billy Collins. Collins, this is…"

"George Wickham," he said, looking at me and not Collins (who I didn't really consider a friend, but I wanted to emphasize that we weren't _dating _or anything. I could vomit at the very thought).

"My name's Lizzy. Lizzy Bennet."

"Lizzy!" I turned again, and this time saw a slightly more welcome interruption than Collins – Bingley, having suddenly walked through a connecting corridor not three feet from where we were standing.

_Small world. Small castle, anyway._

"Hey, Bingley!" I waved. He looked at Collins, seemed to recognize him (they were both prefects), because he gave a friendly wave. He looked at hot guy – um, George – next, and tilted his head. Like, that way when you think you recognize someone and you can't quite place it.

Then Darcy came out of the same corridor Bingley had. He caught my eye first, and did that weird staring thing for a moment as he approached us until his eyes snapped to look behind my shoulder.

And he _froze_. Completely stopped moving, shoulders stiff, eyes locked, stone-faced.

I looked over my shoulder to see George with almost the same expression. This was only for a second though. It was like a shadow briefly passed over his face. Then he glanced between me and Darcy for a second, and he smiled tightly, nodding his head a little.

I turned to look at Darcy, who still had that stony expression on. Bingley was looking at him in concern.

"Uh… nice to see you, Lizzy," he said, then grabbed Darcy's elbow and walked him back the way they came.

"What the hell was that?" I mumbled. George opened his mouth, about to speak, when Collins decided to make his presence known again.

"Don't you have to get to practice, Miss Lizzy?"

"Uh… right," I smiled a little at George, and he returned it.

"Have a good practice, _Miss _Lizzy," he emphasized, smirk widening as he sauntered off.

It sounded kinda nice when _he_ said it.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm trying to get these chapters out faster, but school keeps getting in the way. :/


	10. Wickham's Tale

Chapter Ten: Wickham's Tale

"So, then Professor Longbottom finally showed up. Apparently the Tentacula had given him a hard time."

"Uh huh."

"And Ariana and Jason hadn't noticed that he'd come in, so they just kept making out on top of the knotgrass."

"Uh huh."

"… and then Longbottom snapped and murdered them, along with the entire rest of the class because we were witnesses."

"Uh huh – wait, what?"

"Merlin, Lizzy, what is wrong with you today?"

I shook my head to try to focus. Charlotte was glaring at me, and I realized that I'd become distracted while she was talking.

"Nothing, nothing."

"It's that Wickham guy, isn't it? You're looking for him."

"I am not!"

I betrayed my words by casting my eyes around the snowy path again.

"You are, too. We left late, he's probably already there."

I nodded, and focused my eyes forward. Thankfully, the snow had stopped falling before we left, so I didn't have to worry about that clouding my visibility. I hadn't actually planned to meet George at Hogsmeade, per se, but there were _hints_ okay? Hints!

"It's the last trip before winter break, Lizzy. Try to enjoy it instead of mooning over some guy you barely know."

"I am not _mooning_ over him. And I do know him!"

"One conversation does not mean you know him."

"You weren't _there_, Char. He poured his heart out!"

"Uh huh. You keep saying stuff like that, Lizzy. What exactly did he tell you? And don't pretend like you don't want to, you've been bursting to tell me all week. We're finally alone. You can tell me now. And I want _details_."

"Okay, okay."

…..

It was a week before the Hogsmeade trip.

We had finally gotten a break in the constant snow, and I was taking advantage of the temporary lapse to be outside. I was sitting under my favorite tree by the lake, bundled up in two thick jackets, my Charms textbook open on my lap. I had my wand pointed in front of me, trying very hard to make a leaf float without saying the spell aloud. Damn silent spells.

"Hey there, Lizzy."

I screamed and whipped around, my wand now pointing at – George! Oh, gosh.

"Don't shoot!" He put his hands up in mock surrender, doing that crooked smile thing.

God, he looked so _cool_, leaning up against the tree like that, and here I was, screaming and pointing my wand at him like an idiot.

"Sorry! You startled me."

I lowered my wand, futilely fighting off a blush.

"Is it alright if I sight down?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course!"

I scooted over so there was room to lean against the tree trunk.

He slid down the tree, leaving one leg stretched in front of him, and the other bent at the knee. He rested his arm against it, which very conveniently pushed up his bicep.

"So, what are you studying?"

"Um, Charms. Silent spells."

We made small talk for a little, while I tried to think of something cool to say, but for some reason my normally conversational mind was drawing a blank. Probably because all I could think was _how the hell do you know Darcy?_

Definitely not something I wanted to just blurt out, though my curiosity radar was on full alert. Thankfully, he actually brought it up himself! Like he knew I was just itching to ask.

"So, you know William Darcy, huh?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

George laughed. "Thank goodness! I was afraid you were friends and I was gonna have to pretend not to hate his guts!"

"Fat chance. He's an insufferable, egomaniacal jerkass."

"Wow. You know, I've rarely met anyone who felt the same way about him as I do."

"Really? Seems like everyone would hate him."

"Not everyone is as sharp as you, Lizzy," he winked. "Or as pretty." _Hoo, boy_.

My formerly receding blush was now back. I wasn't normally one to be flustered by compliments, but I rarely received such blatant ones from guys I actually liked –

…..

"Ha! I knew you liked him!"

"Char, I'm telling a story here."

"Right, sorry."

"Anyway, _as I was saying_; I didn't really know what to say to that, so I just laughed a little and got back to the topic."

…..

"_I _know him because my sister is dating his best friend, but how did _you_ have the misfortune to make his acquaintance?"

His smiling expression dissolved into a darker one, and looked away from me out towards the lake.

"It's a… it's a long story. I don't want to forever ruin your chances of getting along with the guy."

"Noble thought, but they were ruined within five minutes of meeting him, trust me."

His dark expression lightened a bit, and he settled back more against the tree trunk.

"So, you really don't know that much about him, do you?"

"Not really. Just that he's rich, he's Bingley's best friend, and he's got a little sister. And that he's an asshole."

George grinned. "It really is nice to have someone share my opinion."

"Yeah. I guess no one else really seems to hate him as much as I do. Anyway, on with the story! How do you know Darcy?"

"Alright, alright," he chuckled a bit at my impatience. "His father is my godfather. We've known each other since we were babies. You seem surprised – we didn't exactly greet each other like old friends, did we? Well, you know I don't like him, but he hates me even more than I hate him, I imagine. "

"Why?"

"To put it bluntly, it was because his father loved me more than him. And I understand that's gotta hurt a person, especially a little kid, so I suppose I understand somewhat. But I didn't even realize until much later that I was his dad's favorite, so it's not like I flaunted it or anything. Anyway, my dad was Darcy's dad's best friend, and he died when I was eleven, the summer before me and Darcy's first year – it's okay, Lizzy, it was a long time ago. Since Mr. Darcy was my godfather, and he loved me, he took me in. Darcy _hated_ that. He tried to convince his dad not to, said I would destroy the home or something like that. Of course, Mr. Darcy didn't listen to him, and that made Darcy furious. Needless to say, we didn't get along well, though I always tried to be nice to him for his father's sake. And Darcy did put on a good front when his father was around, but that wasn't that often; he works a lot. But Georgiana, his little sister, adored me, so I usually had a friendly face around. I used to go back there during every break, like it was my home, too."

He frowned, staring off across the lake again.

I let him lose himself in his thoughts for a moment, then asked: "Used to?"

"Yeah. Two years ago, my fifth year, Darcy finally got his wish, and convinced his father I was _unworthy_ of his love and home."

My heart sped up. _Oh, god, what did he do?_

"I'll admit, I wasn't exactly an angel, but I never did anything really bad, you know? I skipped class sometimes, I forgot to do assignments, I snuck out of the common room after hours. That doesn't make me a bad person though, right?"

"Of course not! I do that, too."

He smiled at me. "Anyway, one night, a friend of mine dared me to sneak into Hogsmeade, using this secret passage – you know, the one behind the one-eyed witch, that was supposed to have been sealed up? It's not. He wanted me to bring back something from Zonko's as proof that I'd done it. So, being a sixteen year old kid, I couldn't refuse a dare. It wasn't curfew yet, so I could still walk around the castle without getting in trouble. Once I got close to the one-eyed witch, guess who I ran into?"

"Darcy?"

"Yes, but not the one you're thinking of; it was Georgiana. _She_ still liked me, even if her brother didn't. She actually had a crush on me, I think, and she was happy to see me in the hall. She wanted to know what I was doing, and if she could go with me. And I really hate to speak ill of another Darcy, since their father was so kind to me, but she is headed the same way as her brother, personality wise. Very proud, stubborn, self-interested. So, when I told her no, she couldn't come with me this time, she was _not_ pleased. I didn't realize it at the time, but when I went to the statue, she followed me, all the way through the path, keeping behind me just enough so that I wouldn't see her if I turned around.

"Once I got out of the tunnel and out of Honeydukes, which was just closing up, she came out with me, and was very pleased with managing it. I realized then that I'd have to get her back to the castle, but when I tried to get her to go back, she threw a fit. Screaming and crying, and the kicker was that she busted out her wand and lobbed a fire ball at Zonko's."

I gasped. "I remember hearing a rumor about a break in at Zonko's in my fourth year!"

George nodded soberly. "Yeah, that would be the one. She didn't really know what she had done, just stared at the building, and I tried to put it out, but I'll let you in on something: I am terrible with charms. I couldn't contain it. That alerted the shop owners of course, and basically the entirety of Hogsmeade, so there was no way to get away at that point. We were caught."

"Oh my god. What happened?"

"The Headmaster flooed to Hogsmeade himself to come get us. He was furious. He walked with us back to the castle in silence, to punish us I think – make us wait longer to find out what our real punishment would be. And Georgiana was in tears by that point, basically incoherent, because she finally realized some of what she'd done. When we got to the castle, he started in on yelling at us – you know how Professor Forster can be - and threatening expulsion.

"We got just outside his office, and guess who was waiting for us in front of the entrance?"

"Darcy?"

"Bingo. He was _furious_, though you might not have known it by looking at him. Guy retains his outward calm, but I knew him well. His eyes were practically black. As soon as he saw Georgiana, he rushed over to her, making sure she was okay, and the Headmaster seemed so surprised to find him there that he didn't say anything. I'm still not sure how he knew we'd be there, actually. I assume one of the teachers must have been with Forster when he found out, and told Darcy about it."

He paused here, and looked at me; his eyes seemed to be searching mine. "Are you sure you want to hear this next part? This is the part where Darcy basically ruined my life."

"I'm sure, George. I can handle it."

He smiled slightly, and sighed heavily.

"Now, I'm not sure if Darcy actually believed what he said, or whether it was just to get back at me for being preferred by his father. I lean towards the latter, but you know, maybe he really thought this was what happened. Before I or Georgiana could say anything, he asked Forster what he knew so far, and, I don't know if I told you this before, but Darcy's dad is very influential in the Ministry. He's really high up in the International Confederation of Wizards, and Forster knows this of course, so he treated Darcy with more deference than I think he would normally have.

"He told Darcy that he'd caught me and Georgiana vandalizing Hogsmeade, basically, and this made Georgiana cry even more. Darcy glared at me the entire time, and I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone look so _cold_. The expression in his eyes was scary, I'll be honest. Once Forster was finished, Darcy calmly explained that I had _tricked_ Georgiana into going out there with me to get her in trouble, and couldn't he see how distressed Georgiana was? She'd clearly been manipulated, and she was just a child after all, blah blah blah.

"Forster believed it all, of course. Georgiana _was_ quite young, and her tears probably helped her case. But there was no proof, Forster said, and we'd both been out there, and there was a lot of building damage that it was going to take more than magic to repair. Darcy said his father would pay for all the damages if Georgiana wouldn't be expelled. At the mention of Darcy's father, Forster agreed."

"So what happened to you?"

George turned sad eyes back on to me again. "Mr. Darcy disowned me."

My horror must have shown in my expression, because George schooled his features. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me, Lizzy."

"Well, it can't really be helped, can it?" I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he smiled a bit. "So, I take it that means Darcy's father believed his little story about what happened?"

"Oh, yeah. Forster flooed his message to him right away, you know when you stick your head in the fireplace? And Mr. Darcy flooed over all the way from India. I'm not sure he would have believed Darcy, except there was more than _his_ word working against me. The headmaster believed it too, and I _had _been having some problems at school – nothing major, but it looked bad when you stacked it up with this. Georgiana just nodded along with everything Darcy said –"

"Why didn't you _say_ something?"

"I tried, once I was allowed to get a word in edgewise. I tried to explain that it was all a misunderstanding, to spare Georgiana and Darcy from blame in front of their father, but when they asked me to explain fully, I couldn't. Georgiana was only a first year at the time, and I knew that if Forster ended up believing me, she'd be in huge trouble. I didn't want to ruin her life when she was just a kid."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my rage at Darcy under control enough to continue the conversation. "So, what did Mr. Darcy do?"

"Well, once it became clear that they all believed Darcy's version of events, he turned to me with the most _betrayed_ look on his face; you have no idea how much that hurt me. He thought I had manipulated his daughter, and betrayed him and his son. He spoke to Forster, but he was looking at me the entire time with that angry, hurt look on his face. He told him that yes, he'd pay for all the damages, and that he wanted this kept as quiet as possible, and that meant not expelling _either_ of us. Darcy looked upset that I wouldn't get expelled, but he didn't want word getting out that Georgiana had done something like this, whether he thought she'd been manipulated or not. Forster agreed, but said he'd have to punish us. He'd say we were only caught sneaking out in the castle, and gave Georgiana two weeks detention, and me three months –"

"Oh my god!"

"I know. But I would have gladly spent the rest of my life in detention if I could have avoided what Mr. Darcy said to me next. His eyes went cold, and I knew at that moment that I'd never see his affectionate expression again. He told me to never come to his house again, to never speak to him or his children again, and consider myself formally disowned.

"And then, once he left, and we were back out in the hall, Darcy sent Georgiana on ahead of him, and turned to have it out with me."

"Merlin, what else could he possibly hope to do to you?"

George chuckled darkly. "Just wanted to rub salt in the wounds, I suppose. He said if I ever went near his sister again, he didn't care what he'd have to do, but he'd get me expelled and make sure every witch and wizard in the country knew what a scoundrel I was."

I couldn't decide what I felt more at the moment; anger at Darcy or sympathy for George. I gave up trying to decide and gave in to both.

"I am so _sorry_, George. I can't imagine what that must have been like."

He shrugged. "Aw, you know. You can't let stuff get you down for too long. I still miss Mr. Darcy sometimes, but … I feel better having talked about. Thanks for making me open up."

He gave me a smile, which I returned. The way his head was titled, he was so close to me… I thought for a moment he was going to kiss me, and my heart sped up at the possibility, not sure if it was something I wanted yet. But he just turned back to the lake.

…..

"Gees… that was some story."

"Yep."

"So, then what did you talk about?"

"Oh, you know… just stuff."

I blushed furiously, but turned my head away from Charlotte, hoping she wouldn't see. I didn't want to tell her that we had basically flirted shamelessly for the next five minutes. Not because I didn't want her to know, but it just seemed strange to say. Eventually he left, but not before saying he might see me at Hogsmeade.

We had reached the entrance to the village by now, and I scanned my eyes around briefly, but I didn't see George.

"See what an asshole Darcy really is now?"

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow. "Lizzy, how can you be sure everything George said is true?"

"How can you even ask that? I can _tell_, Charlotte. I can read people, and George was so… so full of emotion and, and… just, I know Charlotte. It goes along with everything I thought Darcy was before. I see no reason to doubt his honesty. Besides, what possible motivation could he have for lying?"

"I don't know, Lizzy. Just try to remember that you don't know the guy that well.

I was saved from replying by the appearance of Jane, who had noticed us as we passed by the Three Broomsticks and came running out, smiling.

"Jane! Where's Bingley?"

"Oh, he's inside with Darcy and Caroline."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes quite as much as it usually did, and she glanced back at the door, as if contemplating it.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"What? Oh, no, no! Charlie was just a little preoccupied today. He's probably just worried about an exam. I asked him if he wanted to come meet up with you guys, but he said he'd rather stay inside, and that I should go on ahead if I wanted to.

"So, where are we off to?" Her not-quite-right smile widened, and I decided distraction would be the best route for her, anyway.

"Let's just walk around, stay outside for a little –" I ignored Charlotte's eye roll at what she perceived to be my transparent motives "- I have got such a story to tell you!"

…..

"Oh, Lizzy! Surely, it has to be some sort of misunderstanding!"

I laughed; that was exactly the reaction I'd expected from Jane.

"I don't know about a misunderstanding," Charlotte said. "But I do think Lizzy may be a teensy bit biased because she's so hot for George's body –"

"Hey! That has nothing to –"

"Oh, definitely," Jane giggled, eyes sparkling. "Pretty easy to see that, Lizzy."

I glowered as we walked along. I had given Jane the abridged version of the story, so we had only reached the Hog's Head by the time I'd finished. I hadn't seen George on the street, so I suppose he must have been in one of the shops, and we didn't see him when we glanced into the windows.

"Miss Lizzy!"

_Oh, come _on.

"Lizzy. Just Lizzy," I grumbled, turning to see Collins running towards us, the ear flaps of his hat flapping ridiculously. Too bad they weren't bigger, he could have become airborne.

"Miss Lizzy, I am so glad I caught you –"

"Bill! Seriously, please just call me Lizzy! Just use people's names, okay?"

He looked shocked, and I almost felt bad for my outburst, but come on, can you blame me? It was getting seriously annoying.

"Not everyone is as formal as you, Bill," Charlotte said gently. "Just try it."

Bless her. Seriously. How she managed to keep her calm and get people to do what she wanted, I wish I knew.

"Alright, Lizzy," he chocked comically over the word. "Hello Jane, Charlotte."

Jane gave him an encouraging thumbs up, and I even managed a grimace. He turned to me and started anew.

"_Lizzy," _he began, straightening his posture unnecessarily. "I believe the Gryffindor Christmas party is approaching next week, and –"

"George!"

In my excitement at seeing him, I yelled much louder than I needed to, and he turned around, surprised, and smiled when he saw me. He was just exiting the Hogs Head, and he walked quickly over to us. I ignored Collins' confusion, and Jane and Charlotte's barely restrained giggling.

"Hey, Lizzy," he looked uncertainly at the others.

"Ah, Mr – er, George!" Collins winked at me after his deliberate use of first name only, and I cringed. "I believe we were introduced briefly not too long ago!"

"Er… yeah… I recognize you from my Herbology classes, though."

"Ah, yes! How could I forget? Those class sessions spent outdoors – Catherine DeBourgh always says that getting outdoors on occasion is of the utmost importance –"

"Bill!" Charlotte said loudly. He turned to her, startled. "Why don't you escort Jane and I over to the Three Broomsticks?"

"Well –"

Without giving him a chance to answer, Charlotte grabbed him by the arm and began tugging him away. Jane looked startled as well, but at Charlotte's _rather obvious_ nod in my direction, she seemed to get it, and grabbed Collins' other arm to help drag him away. He was still talking to me as he went.

"Goodbye, Lizzy! I hope to see you this Saturday! I remember dancing being a rather time-honored tradition at these types of festivities and –"

At last, he was too far away to hear, and I turned back to George, blushing and hoping he didn't mistake my association with Collins. But he just looked slightly bemused, and then grinned at me.

For lack of anything else to say, I gestured vaguely forward. "You want to walk that way, too?"

"Sure," he nodded agreeably, and we were off, walking at a slower pace than Charlotte and Jane, who were practically running as they pulled Collins along.

"I forgot the Christmas parties were coming up," he said after a moment.

"Right…" _Ask him Lizzy._ "Well, you know… I know Slytherin is having one too and all, but that's on a different day, so I… there's always a lot of other people from other houses at ours, and it might not really be your scene, but… are you gonna go?"

"Do you want me to go?" He asked, with a sly smile on his face that led me to believe he knew the answer.

_I wonder what it's like not to blush all the time_.

"Er… well, it should be a lot of fun, and you're… definitely invited!"

_Get it together, Lizzy, just tell him to come!_

"I mean…"

"I'd love to come," he chuckled, interrupting my ramblings. I sighed in relief. But then a thought occurred to me.

"Oh… I should warn you, Darcy is probably going to be there. Bingley and Jane are going, and the guy goes _everywhere_ with Bingley, I swear. I understand if you don't want to run into him."

"Nah," George shrugged. "He's the one who totally screwed me over. _He_ might have a reason not to want to see me, but I have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not gonna let him stop me from going to a party with a gorgeous gal."

"Great!" I said loudly, hoping I didn't sound as flustered as I felt.

We made it to outside the Three Broomsticks, and I was about to invite him to come inside, when it occurred to me that Darcy was likely still in there, and I thought maybe I shouldn't push it. I couldn't come up with anything to say, and he just stood there smiling at me. Was it my imagination or was he inching closer?

"Lizzy!"

_I wish I had an invisibility cloak_.

"Yes, Lydia?"

My youngest sister had just popped her head out the door of the tavern, grinning almost maniacally.

"You've got to get in here, you'll never believe what Kitty is – oh, hello!"

Her grin somehow widened even more as she caught sight of George. Oh, boy. Lydia and hot guys were a rather dangerous combination.

"Who is _this_?" she addressed the question to me, but her eyes were all for George. He smiled politely at her.

"George Wickham," I said reluctantly. "George, this is my little sister, Lydia."

"Nice to meet you, George," she practically purred, stepping all the way out from the door to offer her hand. George glanced at me, and I gave him an apologetic shrug, before he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you too, Lydia."

"Lydia, I'll be in in a minute, okay?" I told her, when she showed no signs of leaving. She looked at me then, and huffed dramatically, recognizing the dismissal.

"Fine. See you around, George," she waved her fingers before strutting back inside.

"Sorry about her," I said contritely.

"Don't worry about it. Anyway, I'd better get headed back to the castle –"

"Already? We've still got an hour, are you sure you don't want to stay?"

He looked at the door, and I thought I saw something in his expression shift for a minute… darken, almost. But a second later I decided I had only imagined it. I was about to tell him we didn't have to go in there, but he spoke first. "No, I don't like it much. I prefer the Hogs Head – I know it's seedier, but it's much quieter. I like to be able to think while I drink my butterbeer."

_Damn, that sounds sophisticated. What a freaking _package.

"Well, I'll see you at the party, right?"

"But of course, madam!" He grabbed my hand then, and bent over it to kiss it.

"It's at 8 o'clock on Saturday!" Yeah, my voice was definitely a little squeakier than usual.

"I'll be there."

And with that he turned and walked off into the gathering snow.

* * *

**A/N: **Phew! This chapter ended up being longer than the others. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews! :)


	11. The Man with Two Faces

Chapter Eleven: The Man with Two Faces

Inside, the Gryffindor common room was as festive as I'd ever seen it. Bright lights and happy music; loud laughter and pleasant chatter; students dancing or talking or admiring one of the many Christmas trees that was lavishly decorated and floating several feet above the ground. It was basically a twinkling, jovial wonderland.

Outside, the snow came down hard; so ice-like as to be more hail than snow. And if you listened carefully in the seconds between songs, you could hear the menacing howl of the wind, and the hail slamming against the windows. 'Twas a dark and stormy night.

Guess which environment matched my current mood.

"What do you _mean_ 'he's not coming'?!"

"I mean how it sounds, Lizzy. George isn't coming."

"How do you know? It's only been an hour. He might just be late –"

"Denny told me. They're friends."

"Oh."

I swallowed, looking out towards the party from the small alcove by the girl's staircase where Charlotte and I currently stood. She had dragged me over because she had 'something to tell me'.

I avoided eye contact with her, trying to hide my disappointment. I'm sure I was unsuccessful.

"Denny said something about not wanting to cause a scene with someone," Charlotte continued. "I don't know who."

Across the room, I saw Darcy standing by the far wall. We made eye contact.

"I do."

I looked away quickly, and met Charlotte's sympathetic eye.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy. I know you were looking forward to this."

I gave her a tight lipped smile. "It's okay. It's not like we were going… _together_ or anything. It's not like it was a date."

Charlotte looked skeptical, but she didn't say anything. I looked away again.

The party continued on around us, thoroughly unaffected by this news. I felt like I should have been standing outside in the cold. I no longer belonged among the happy Christmas music and festive decorations.

Maybe we had never explicitly stated that it was going to be a date, but it had sure felt that way in my head. The anticipation had built up the entire week. I didn't hold Quidditch practice that afternoon, so I could spend time _getting ready, _which I felt ridiculous for now. I spent all that time re-curling my hair into ringlets, instead of the usual springy curls, and now he wouldn't even _see _it.

Still mentally berating myself for my uncharacteristic stupidity over a guy, my eyes were drawn back to Darcy across the sea of students.

_All. His. Fault._

He looked my way again, and I hoped he could tell I was glaring even though we were standing so far away. I like to think my anger transcends distance.

Movement in my peripheral caught my attention, and I finally tore my eyes away from evil incarnate. Good thing I did too, because it gave me forewarning of my impending doom.

"Hide me!" I hissed to Charlotte. "Collins is coming!"

She looked back to the advancing little bugger. He was currently weaving in and out of a large group of first and second years, who had gathered to watch Sabrina and Jeffrey make a light show with their wands. They gave him irritated look as he bumped into them, and if I wasn't so concerned about his approach I would have laughed.

Charlotte winked at me, muttered a quick "don't worry, I got this" and took off right towards him before I could process what was happening. What the…?

She caught up to him on the outskirts of the throng of young students. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but at one point Collins gestured over towards where I was standing. Charlotte shook her head. And then, to my astonishment, she _grabbed his hand_ and pulled him towards the dance floor, where a lot of couples were currently engaged in something between a slow dance and spinning around in circles. And Charlotte and Collins joined them.

_Charlotte, if you can hear my thoughts: bless you. Bless all that you are. Bless your children, and your children's children. You are the best friend in the entire world._

After I finished mentally praising Charlotte to the heavens, though, my mood returned right to its former dark place. And her altruistic sacrifice left me alone to do exactly what I wanted: brood about Darcy. I had gotten really good at that, and now there was just more fuel in the fire.

_Look at him, standing against the wall. Glancing around the room like a king looking on his peasants. By himself because he thinks he's too good for anyone else. _George_ should be the one here, not _him._ George would actually be enjoying himself. Probably dancing with me… maybe we'd have found our way to the mistletoe. Not that it matters now that Darcy had ruined everything. Good job, Darce-hole, you managed to ruin my night all the way from the other side of the room. _

_Wonder if I could reach you with a Jelly-Legs Jinx from here…_

_Enough!_ I had to stop contemplating magical vengeance; my wand hand was getting a little too itchy for the trigger. A distraction was definitely in order. I had plenty of time to stew in my own anger later. For now, I wasn't about to let Darcy _completely_ destroy the party.

Besides, I must have looked stupid standing by the stairs all alone.

Once again scanning my eyes around the room, I set about the search for Jane. She took the "semi-formal" dress code for the party as closer to "formal", so I looked for a small blue dress and blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Probably accompanied by a redhead in dress robes…

Yep! There they were, by the punch bowl. Bingley was ladling punch into cups. Jane was looking around, and she caught my eye – I was good at catching people's eyes tonight – and enthusiastically waved me over.

"Lizzy!" Her grin widened when I reached her. "I was afraid I wouldn't see you the whole party!" She grinned radiantly at Bingley as he handed her a glass of punch. _Ugh, so cute_.

"It's easy to get lost in this crowd," I said.

"I'll say!" Bingley chuckled, handing me a cup as well. I mumbled "thank you" and took it. "I haven't seen Caroline since we got here."

_Have you checked Darcy's side? Maybe she's finally managed to physically attach herself to it. _

"So… this is a great party!" Bingley said after a moment.

"… yeah," I agreed shortly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jane give me a puzzled look. I was usually better at conversation than this, but I was preoccupied at the moment.

I was wondering, not for the first time, how on earth Bingley could be friends with someone like Darcy. Darcy being an expert ruiner of lives and general jackass with a permanent stick up his ass; and Bingley being this seemingly sweet, good-natured guy, who smiled at everyone and always had something pleasant to say. I wondered if Bingley knew what Darcy had done to George. They were friends, Darcy might have told him. Could I be nice to a guy who knew that, and was friends with Darcy anyway?

I looked at Jane and sighed. Of course I could.

I plastered a grin on my face and turned to him.

"Going home for the holidays in a week?"

Jane smiled.

….

Perhaps it was just because of my sour mood, but it seemed like the party just got worse and worse as the night progressed. It must have been written in the stars that tonight was doomed to misery. And the stars are relentless. Just ask the centaurs.

I hadn't been talking with Jane and Bingley more than five minutes before the stars aligned in some sick joke, in order to force me to do what I had been avoiding for quite some time now: dance with Collins.

Jane, Bingley and I had been talking mostly pleasantly; my dark thoughts about the murder of Bingley's best friend had moved back slightly in my mind. And then Darcy had to fucking _come over_. Once again, he displays a penchant for gravitating towards where he is least wanted.

The way I was standing, I hadn't been able to see him at his anti-social spot on the wall. But something made me turn at that moment – _maybe I can sense evil… no, that's dogs_ - and I saw him making his way towards us. He may have had to weave through the crowds, but he still looked like he was walking with a purpose. And he made eye-contact with me, and I _swear_ that I can just tell that purpose involved making me miserable.

And that's when the stars or the fates or whatever revealed their perverse sense of humor. The second I made eye contact with the Darce-hole, I felt a tap at my shoulder, and I turned to see the Collins, wearing his sleaziest grin. Went really well with the extra grease in his hair. Damn little bugger must have aggravated Charlotte enough that she couldn't distract him for me anymore.

"Mi – Lizzy! Hello, Jane, Charles." He nodded at the two of them, who didn't look phased by his oddness. Then he turned back to me.

He _bowed_, like it was the damn nineteenth century or some shit, and offered his hand. "I believe you once promised me that the next time we were at such a function that involved dancing –"

"Yeah, yeah, let's dance!" I said quickly, glancing back to Darcy, who was almost upon us.

I grabbed Collins' hand (_oh god it's so sweaty why why why_), and pulled him quickly towards the dance area.

"Why, Lizzy!" He smiled. Maybe _leered_ would be a better word actually. "I admire your enthusiasm!"

"Yeah. Super enthusiastic."

I looked around at the other dancers, noting the position that we would have to imitate. _Fan-fucking-tastic_.

I reluctantly put the hand that wasn't held in his on his shoulder. I think I visibly shuddered when he put his other hand on my waist.

_The things I do to avoid assaulting Darcy._

"This is a lovely song, isn't it Lizzy? It's by The Jabbering Jobberknolls, I believe. What an interesting name for a band. You may be wondering how I know that…"

At least there was one good thing about Collins; his incessant chatter made any response from me largely unnecessary. I said "mmm-hmm" whenever there was a slight pause, which was more than enough encouragement for him to keep talking.

As he talked on and on, and we kind of spun around with the rest of the students, I looked back to the punch bowl. Jane, Bingley and Darcy were still there, now joined by Caroline. I'd partly expected Darcy to be glaring at me still, but luckily he was engaged in conversation with Bingley while Jane talked to Caroline.

And okay, maybe running away from Darcy seems a tad over-dramatic, but I still had so much tension built up inside me that if I had to try to say one civil word to that guy, I was sure I'd be aiming the worst hex I knew at him before you could say 'scumbag'. And that would be bad, and possibly get me in enough trouble to be suspended from Quidditch. And it would upset Jane, of course.

Plus, besides anger, it was a matter of _principle! _How could I be even passably civil to the person who had _completely destroyed _George's life?! Not to mention making him miss our kinda, sorta, maybe implied date tonight. I didn't know if I could morally be nice to him.

So, avoidance it would have to be.

"Lizzy?"

"Huh? What did you say?"

"I asked if you had given the internship for Winter break any more thought. Because I told Catherine DeBourgh a month ago that I had found someone for the position, so I –"

"Hey, song's over!" I yelled, startling him. I almost laughed at his expression. He really has the strangest startled face; makes he look even more like a turtle. "Gotta go!"

As I quickly dodged out of the throng of dancing students, it occurred to me that Collins' little infatuation with me was lasting a lot longer than I had anticipated. I was really gonna have to put a stop to this soon.

I spotted Charlotte talking to Vicky, mercifully on the opposite side of the room as Darcy, and headed towards her. Maybe if Darcy approached again she'd drag him away on to the dance floor, too.

_My hero._

….

You might think that forcing me to dance with Collins was enough torture for the stars to throw at me that night. You would be wrong. An hour later, the stars decided to use Lydia and Kitty as their instruments of torture for me.

The two geniuses they were now _so totally in love with_, Marcus and Ben, had been showing off their magical skills by making Lydia and Kitty float to the ceiling. They were very entertained, until they realized they didn't know how to get them down.

Let's just say, I did not react well.

"Lizzy! I can_not_ believe you just did that!"

"That was humiliating!"

"Really? _That_ was the humiliating part? Not the part where you were _floating helplessly in the air above the party?"_

"Marcus and Ben were just playing around!" Lydia hissed, eyes blazing. "What the hell do you think you were doing,_ screaming at them?"_

"I can't believe you would do that to us!" Kitty, who was close to tears, yelled.

_Thank Merlin I dragged them into the hallway for this_.

"Next time just mind your own business!" Lydia snarled, before dragging Kitty back through the portrait hole (grunting the password quite rudely).

"Rather testy, are they?" The Fat Lady commented sympathetically.

I sighed, and slid down the wall, landing on the floor quite hard. I knew it would be better to stay out in the hall for a while. Mary was undoubtedly taking points away from Marcus and Ben's houses by now, and when Lydia and Kitty saw that there was sure to be another unpleasant scene. Good thing Jane and Bingley had left already. She'd be really upset by this whole thing.

_Lydia and Kitty are just determined to make a scene of the whole family, aren't they?_

"Lizzy? You've been out here for ten minutes. What are you doing?"

"Brooding."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Lydia and Kitty are over it. They're happily dancing with two other guys now."

"Well, thank goodness."

"Come on, come back to the party. There's a game of exploding snap going on in the corner."

"You know me so well."

I got up, following Charlotte back through the portrait hole and into the common room. I was still brooding, though. The storm making its way through my mind was making everything else around me seem distant, as though I were only half there.

This distant feeling was, I was sure, the reason for what I did next. Two steps into the common room, and there was suddenly a tall figure stepping in front of me and impeding my progress. I looked up, numb with shock.

After all my careful avoidance.

"Lizzy."

"…Darcy."

"Would you like to dance when the song changes?"

"Uh… Sure."

"Good."

And then he walked away. Dazed, I just kept looking straight forward, and didn't see where he went.

"Uh, Charlotte?"

"… Yes, Lizzy?"

"Did I just agree to dance with Darcy?"

"… Yes, Lizzy."

A beat.

"Shit!" My eyes widened in panic, the reality finally hitting me.

"Charlotte, how do I get out of this?" I whispered frantically. "Help!"

_I just said I would dance with William Darcy! His Royal Highness the Head Boy who ruined George Wickham's life and my night and who I swore I would never say a polite word to again. Of all the people!_

"Oh, no, Lizzy, don't try to get out of this!" Did Charlotte sound amused?! "You said you would."

"He caught me off guard!"

"You can't just ditch him."

"Why not? He's a terrible person, he deserves it!"

"Because that's a low thing to do, and you _know_ it."

I glowered at her, crossing my arms so she would understand the full power of my discontent. She was unmoved.

"It's one dance, Lizzy. You'll survive."

"_He_ might not."

"… give me your wand –"

"Charlotte, I was joking!"

"Were you?"

"Mostly."

"Song's about to change. Try to keep the rage in check, Lizzy. Remember Jane. Remember Quidditch," she whispered dramatically. That evil little woman was actually _giggling_ as she walked away from me.

_I take back that 'my hero' thought from earlier._

"Are you ready?" A deep, unfortunately familiar, voice came from just behind me a moment later.

_To die?_

I turned to Darcy and nodded once. I didn't wait for him to lead, walking ahead of him before I lost my resolve…

… and saw with a sinking feeling in my stomach that the formerly slow dance/spinning mix had, at some point, transformed into just a slow dance. All the couples were basically just holding each other and swaying and _oh, god_, _this is going to be worst thing I have ever experienced in my life, why stars why? Is this because I didn't do my Charms essay yesterday? Seems like an awfully disproportionate punishment. _

I found a spot in the dance area and turned resolutely to Darcy, my shoulders squared as if preparing to bravely face my death. Which I may as well have been, for how much I was dreading it.

His expression was a neutral as it always seemed to be. He stared down at me (he was _quite_ tall), and I was grateful that Vicky had talked me into wearing heels so that I could at least reach his shoulders with my hands without straining. I kept my arms as straight as I could to put the most distance between us possible, and he put both his hands on my waist.

_I'm physically touching the vilest man in the wizarding world. What a fun night. _

We stood there with our hands awkwardly on each other, moving back and forth slightly. I stared at a spot on his chin to avoid looking into his eyes. He had a stupid chin dimple. No one spoke.

Darcy seemed content… or whatever emotion he was capable of that most resembled content… to just sway back and forth and stare down at me. I lifted my eyes from his chin to meet his, hoping he would either stop looking at me so intently or at least _say_ something. But, no. Just the looking.

There was polite eye contact, and then there was _this_.

Despite my earlier resolution to never say a word to him again, I soon realized that silence was his natural habitat, and that would probably make him _happier_ than if I forced him to talk.

"One of us should probably say something."

His expression did not undergo a single change, and he gave no indication that he'd heard me.

"Come on, Darcy, it's a party. There's plenty to make small talk about."

"I wasn't aware you placed such importance on small talk."

_He said something! What miracle is this?_

"I don't, normally, but it's better than just standing here in silence… try a comment on the decorations or something. Or that couple over there that are literally just standing still and –"

_Oh, wait, that's Lydia._

Darcy didn't seem to notice the abrupt end to my sentence.

"I'll say whatever you'd prefer."

"Ugh, that'll work for now, I guess."

And he went back to stone-faced silence again. His hand slid about an inch down on my waist, and I tensed.

_Oh, _please _try something. I am dying for an excuse to take out my wand._

His hand moved back though, and he cleared his throat slightly.

Another thirty seconds of stifling silence. I cast around for a subject we had in common, and could come up with only one.

"Jane and Charlie sure seem to be getting along."

"… hmm." He made a noise that might have been agreement. Might have been indigestion. I'm not sure.

Either way, that was all he was willing to offer up on the topic. He did finally manage to rip his eyes from me, and stared across the room. Like he was deep in thought, maybe. Or, like I said, it could have just been indigestion.

More long moments of silence. I tried to think of a topic that would appropriately embarrass him or make him at least like a _fraction_ as uncomfortable as he was making me feel, when he actually managed to bring one up on his own. And it was so obvious, I couldn't believe I didn't think of it myself.

"I…" His voice startled me out of my musings on the awkwardness of this situation.

_It's trying to speak on its own. Everyone gather around and observe. _

"How long have you known George Wickham?"

I think I might have gasped aloud, I was so surprised. I never, in a million trillion years, would have expected Darcy to have the nerve to bring him up. Or even to _want_ to. Did he want to try to drag his name through the dirt with _me_ or something?

_Fine, buddy, you wanna have it out? At least I can tell Charlotte it was him who started it. _

"Oh, not very long. I've gotten to know him pretty well though," I said loftily, trying to keep my expression neutral.

_There. Let him suffer, trying to guess how much I know._

His expression hardened.

"Have you?" He fished.

"Yes. He's very friendly."

Darcy actually _snorted_ at that and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, yes, _very_ friendly," he said. His tone was dry, but I could pick up the sarcasm easily. "How long his friendliness _lasts _always varies, but it's never very long."

"And what the hell would you know about being _friendly?"_

A few of the people next to us turned to look at me, and I blushed. I had trouble controlling the volume of my voice when I was arguing.

Darcy noticed too, and regained whatever cool he had temporarily lost. I tried to follow suit.

"I suppose you must know_ something_ about friendship as it relates to _George_, since the two of you used to something like friends, didn't you?"

He looked at me with eyes colder than usual.

"I suppose so, yes."

"Not anymore, though?" I asked, though it wasn't a question.

"No, I endeavor only to give my friendship to those that deserve it."

"You must have a pretty solid idea of who deserves the _honor_ then, huh?"

"Do you mind my asking what the _point_ of this little conversation is?"

I shrugged. "Just making small talk."

He searched my eyes for something. Whether he discovered anything in them, I don't know.

"Elizabeth, I don't know what Wickham has told you, but you should know that he is not to be trusted."

I was about to respond, when I noticed it was quieter around us than it had been a second ago. The music had stopped, in the process of changing.

"Song's over," I snapped, and rapidly withdrew my hands from his shoulders, trying to keep the angry fire spitting in my soul from boiling over. He removed his hands from my waist, expression solid granite.

"Thank you for the dance," he said tonelessly.

I said nothing, and marched away from the dance floor. I saw Charlotte in the exploding snap corner, talking to Collins. I had no desire to deal with him again tonight.

Resolved that the party was doomed to disaster, I stormed up the stairs to my dormitory, hoping to fall into an angry sleep and somehow wake up with no memory of the night's events.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry this update took longer than usual! I started a new job last week and I haven't had much time lately!


	12. The Parting of the Ways

Chapter Twelve: The Parting of the Ways

Disappointingly, I did not magically forget the events of the party when I woke up the next morning.

But if that night was bad, it was nothing compared to the next day. Hard to believe so many things can go wrong in the span of a few hours.

I would call it Murphy's Law – you know, everything that _can _go wrong _will _go wrong – but this wasn't little stuff like dropping bread buttered side down or picking the slow line at the store. This was some pretty major shit.

It started out as every other day had for the past three weeks; being roused out of my slumber by the sound of a Christmas carol. This morning it was Winter Wonderland.

"Again, Vicky?" I groaned. "You did that one last week."

"It's one of my favorites," she said, unnaturally chipper for – was it 11:30 already? Guess it wasn't that unnatural.

"I would have gotten you up sooner, but I know we all had a late night at the party! Wasn't it just the best? I had such a good time."

I grunted and flopped back on the pillow. Vicky was unfazed, and went back to her singing as she twined ribbon through her braid. I half expected cute woodland creatures to come help her.

The other girls had long since learned to put earplugs in before they went to sleep, so I was the only one awoken. Unlike me, I suppose they hadn't gotten to bed by midnight last night.

I normally loved Vicky's singing in the dorm; it reminded me of Jane, and filled me with a surge of sisterly affection strong enough to actually get my ass out of bed. But the party had left me in such a foul mood that it barely made me open my eyes.

My stomach rumbling did the trick, though.

I should have just ignored it. Getting out of bed was easily the worst decision I had made in a long time. Definitely a bad move on my part.

The sight of the barren Great Hall let me know that I had missed breakfast, which I would have remembered if I had been thinking clearly. My head was so foggy, I must have woken up in the middle of a REM cycle or something.

I could have just gone to the kitchens to snag some food, but I admit it, I was pouting, and I didn't want to put in the effort. So I dragged myself outside, figuring I could hang around the lake until lunch.

The blast of cold air as I walked through the castle doors helped wake me up a bit. It wasn't snowing, but it must have been this morning because there was a light dusting on the trees and the grass. There was something satisfying about feeling it crunch under my feet as I walked around the edge of the water.

There weren't very many other people out, considering how freezing it was, and that there wasn't enough snow to have any fun with. I didn't mind the cold, though. I generally preferred it, actually, at all times except when I was flying.

_It matches the state of my soul_.

_Don't be so melodramatic, self._

I wondered what Charlotte and my sisters were doing. I wondered what George was doing.

I wondered what Darcy was doing. I guessed it involved stealing the souls of young children, but I could be wrong.

It was probably fitting that the one person I _wasn't_ wondering about should happen upon me at that moment.

Though 'happen upon' wasn't the right phrase, I guess, since it was clear that he had very deliberately sought me out _to torment me_.

Big Terrible Event of the day number one: Billy Collins went for a direct approach.

I heard quick, heavy footsteps, and turned to see him running towards me around the edge of the lake.

Would I be willing to jump into the probably fatally cold water just to escape him? It was tempting. But he noticed me turn around, and waved frantically as he ran. I stood still, feeling resigned.

"Good afternoon, Lizzy," he was rather out of breath when he finally reached me.

"What's up, Bill?" I asked, not really caring, and I went to continue walking.

"May I have a moment of your time?"

I turned to face him again and sighed impatiently. Guess he wasn't developed enough to be able to walk and talk at the same time.

Or he felt that this was a discussion that would require my full attention.

Well, can't say I didn't see this coming. I just wasn't expecting it at the moment.

I took quick inventory of the surroundings. There were a couple of younger students a little ways down the lake skipping stones, but otherwise we were basically alone. I cursed myself for being so predictable; if I didn't spend so much time by the lake he might not have known he could find me here.

"Sure."

He grinned, stepping closer to me and clearing his throat. He straightened his aleady straight posture and stared way too intensely into my eyes.

_Here it comes._

He cleared his throat dramatically, and, long-winded as ever, launched into his speech. "Lizzy, I am sure you have noticed my behavior over the past month or so, as I feel I have made my intentions rather obvious, although I hope still subtle enough to be considered appropriate. My feelings for you must be clear, but I am aware that a… declaration of sorts is usually required in these types of situations. I felt, considering that we now have less than a week before winter break begins, that this would be the optimal time to ask you the question that I have been anticipating asking ever since I developed these strong feelings."

He took a deep breath. The rehearsed nature of his speech might have made me feel guilty, had I not known that he felt no such 'strong feelings' for me.

I had put my people observing skills to work, and it wasn't hard to figure out Collins. He did at least have one thing right: his intentions were rather obvious. He wanted a girlfriend for the same reason so many people did – because he felt like he should. He had chosen me to fill this role for some reason, and now it fell to my joyful lot to tell him that wasn't gonna happen, even if they issued a freeze warning in hell.

"Though I have known you for years –"

Damn, he was still talking.

"I have only recently realized what a true _treasure _you are. I know we would make a wonderful match, and I am positive that –"

"Bill?"

"-you will find being my girlfriend a most… ahem… pleasurable experience –"

"Dude."

"-and now that you are fully aware of my intentions, the only thing left to do is to assure you of my feelings. Elizabeth Bennet –"

"_Collins!_ Shut _up_!" I snapped.

A couple of birds that had been hanging out in the trees above us suddenly took flight. The kids skipping stones stopped to stare. I did always have trouble controlling my voice when I got upset.

Meanwhile, that comically shocked look had popped up on Collins' face, and he was stunned enough to halt his speech. I took advantage of the silence while I had it.

"Look, Bill, I'm… flattered," I lied. "But the answer, in case you were interested in actually _asking_ the question, is no."

"I…" he opened and closed his mouth several times. He clearly hadn't rehearsed anything for this scenario. He recovered himself rather quickly though, and smiled, which seemed rather out of place.

"Lizzy," he chuckled, shaking his head like he was amused. "I get it. You're playing hard to get."

_Please be joking._

"I know it's a custom rather typical of young ladies your age. I didn't anticipate it from you, but no matter. Don't worry, I understand that it's because you think I'm only interested in the chase, but let me assure you-"

_He's not joking._

"Collins! I am _not_ playing hard to get, okay? I mean it, I am not interested in you in that way."

_Or in any way._

His amused expression did not change.

"Alright, alright, I suppose I'll have to let you sit for a while, let you see that I am unwavering in my affection. Fear not, I'll be back to ask again later, until you are assured -"

I felt something inside me click.

_That's it. Patience used up. _

The wand was out of my pocket before I had even really thought about it, and pointed directly at his slimy little face. _That_ certainly got his attention.

"Look, Collins, you picked a really rotten time to test my patience, alright?" I felt the harshness of my tone, and did nothing to try to calm it. He had been bugging me for a month, and I'd be damned if I was gonna let it keep happening just because he doesn't understand the word 'no'.

"I am not in the mood for your insistence that you somehow know what I want better than I do. I am not one of those girls who play those stupid _fucking_ games, if there even _are_ any girls like that in the first place. So how about you try out a novel idea, and take what I _say_ as what I _mean_?"

In the face of my wand and my best 'fuck you' expression, he at last looked less confident in his opinion. Though his eyes were still narrowed in skepticism.

He cleared his throat. I was quite pleased to note that his formerly obsequious tone was gone, and was replaced by something edging on indignation.

_Wounded pride? Just mad that I interrupted his speech?_

"Well, Lizzy, if that's _really_ how you feel," and he didn't seem to quite believe it was, "I suppose I would just like to remind you that although _I_ am capable of seeing past your rather… _feisty_… personality, there are not many men out there who are as high-minded as me. It may be quite some time before –"

_Silencio!_

His mouth moved, but sound no longer came out. He looked at me, more shocked than he'd been the entire conversation, and waved his hands ridiculously at his mouth. He tried to form words, but ended up looking like a gasping fish.

I lowered my wand and stormed away, leaving Collins searching through his pockets for his wand.

I was too pissed off to even be happy that I'd finally mastered a silent spell.

_Little cretin. Let's see him try to rationalize _that_ as playing hard to get._

_..._

Okay, I'm normally not one who subscribes to any sort of fate idea. I don't think that there is some sort of destiny written out for us, or that the events in our lives follow some plan, no matter how much I joke about it.

But I might have to change that opinion, because the universe _clearly_ felt that I was deserving of punishment for some reason. It only took about two minutes after that unpleasant little run-in for the next in a series of ridiculously unfortunate events to occur.

Big Terrible Event of the day number two: Darcy's existence.

Specifically, Darcy's existence right in front of me. About a foot and a half in front of me.

"Lizzy?"

"Not now, Darcy," I said through gritted teeth, staring down his Head Boy badge.

He stood still right in the center of the doorway into the castle. I could have stepped around him and used the other door, but in my stubborn anger, that little bit of effort sounded absolutely monumental right now.

"Lizzy, you're flushed. Are you alright? Are you sick?"

He suddenly grabbed my shoulders, bending down to try to look at my face. I finally tilted my head up to look him in the eyes.

"I'll be alright if you _get the fuck out of my way!"_

In my head I screamed this at the top of my lungs, and blasted Darcy into the castle wall. But in real life, I couldn't find the energy to unclench my fists or un-tense my jaw, so I just hissed it out, barely audible, as I glared up at him.

"Honestly, Lizzy, you don't look well."

"Gee, thanks. Can you move now?"

He stared for another second or two, and then he lifted his hands off my shoulders, something happening in his expression. I would normally have some scathing thought about it, I'm sure, but at that moment I only had enough energy left to walk through the doorway he had finally vacated. I didn't look back.

Yeah, so Big Terrible Event number two only lasted about a minute, but since Darcy was easily the worst person on the planet, any interaction with him would always count as a BTE.

Too angry to think about lunch, I made my way back to the Gryffindor tower. My head was pounding, a frustration headache well on its way. I figured I could just curl up in my bed and not set a foot out of it for the rest of the day. I just had to wait this day out, and then I'd wake up tomorrow and everything would be fine, right?

_Please, please, please –_

_Jane?_

"Jane?"

I skidded to halt when I caught sight of her, then gathered myself and ran the rest of the way down the hall.

"Jane, what are you doing out here? What happened?"

_What happened_ was Big Terrible Event of the day number three.

Leaning against the wall outside the Fat Lady, on the side opposite where I'd been just the night before, my twin sister sat staring blankly ahead of her. She looked up when I approached her.

I threw myself roughly on my knees before her, checking her forehead for a fever.

The look she leveled me with stopped me cold. Her eyes, formerly dazed and unfocused, were now filling with tears. Her lower lip quivered. This wasn't illness.

"Jane?" I made my voice more gentle this time, the shock of finding her here wearing off. At least enough for me to compose myself.

"Charlie –" her voice broke on the name. She closed her eyes, but two tears slipped past the barrier anyway. "Charlie broke up with me."

This sentence seemed to have used up the last of her restraint, and she flung herself forward and sobbed onto my shoulder.

And my shock was back. _There_ was something I never expected.

"Shhhh, Jane, it's okay. Shhhh."

I made soothing noises while she cried. Jane was quite rarely this sad – I hadn't seen her like this since the family cat died three years ago – but I knew that she needed to let it out.

I listened to her sob for a couple of minutes, before I realized that she was saying something muffled against my shoulder. I struggled to make it out.

"_I don't understand. I don't understand."_

Over and over again through her sobs. _  
_

"Come on, Jane," I whispered. "Let's get inside, alright? You'll feel better if we get out of the hallway."

I'm not sure she believed me, but she nodded anyway and pulled her head off my shoulder. I smiled encouragingly at her, but she didn't notice.

…..

Two hours, a brief power nap, and one more crying session later, Jane was finally coherent enough to tell me what had happened.

And I added the name "Charles Bingley" to my shit list.

Apparently, everything had seemed perfectly normal when they left the party last night. They got back to the Hufflepuff common room, kissed goodnight, and went their separate ways. Jane said, looking back, he seemed a little distant, but she thought he was just tired at the time.

And then he broke up with her in the morning.

Well, it was really more Caroline who did the breaking up.

Yeah, that's right. Bingley didn't even break up with Jane _himself_. His little sister did it.

When Jane got down to the common room that morning, she was "pleasantly surprised" to see Caroline and Bingley waiting for her. But then she noticed their faces. She said Caroline looked serious and regretful, and Bingley looked "sad". It took her a full minute just to get that sentence out, what with the renewed crying.

"And then – and then she – she said –"

"Okay, Jane, I get it," I said, rubbing her back soothingly. She continued to cry loudly.

The dorm was mercifully empty. Shawna had been here when we arrived, but one look at the distraught Jane and she had quietly slipped out, throwing me a sympathetic look as she went.

"I just didn't have any idea!" She chocked out, once her sobs weren't racking her body quite so hard anymore. "Everything seemed so normal. I have no idea what I could have done."

"I'm sure you didn't do anything, Jane. He _loves_ you, I _know _it! Nobody who has seen you two together could doubt that!"

Except maybe a couple people…

"Then why did he break up with me?" She sniffled.

"Have you thought that maybe Bingley didn't really want to break up? That Caroline was manipulating him or –"

Jane shook her head vehemently.

"He was standing right there the entire time, Lizzy," she laughed bitterly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "He had plenty of time to say something. He didn't say a single word the entire time. He looked away when I tried to even make eye contact. Caroline was clearly acting on his orders. If he didn't want to break up with me, then why did he just stand there?"

I didn't have an answer to that. She didn't expect me to.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I just have to accept that I was reading more into this relationship than there was. And try to move on."

I smiled encouragingly again, and this time she noticed.

I had a lot of thoughts, but I didn't voice them, as they were neither helpful nor fully formed. Expressing my vague feelings that Caroline, and probably Darcy too, had clearly manipulated Bingley into this, was not going to help Jane get through it.

So, I did what any good sister would do. I dug into Vicky's emergency candy stash, grabbed Marianne's hair products, and set to work stuffing Jane with junk food and allowing her to style my hair. The minuscule brightening of her face when I presented her with my mop of curls as a canvas was worth the torture.

Studiously ignoring the obvious topic, we talked about childhood memories, upcoming exams, what we thought mom and dad got us for Christmas.

Every once in a while I felt a tear fall on my head, and I ignored it.

By dinner time, Jane was feeling a little better, and I was feeling worse than I had felt all day. I was playing martyr, pushing all my pain aside and focusing on Jane, but the pounding in my head felt like someone was cutting through the inside of my forehead with dull glass, and my empty stomach was vehemently protesting that lone snickers bar.

"Are you hungry?" I ventured, applying outlandish orange eye shadow to Jane's lids.

"A little," she said. I glanced at the pile of empty candy wrappers on my bed.

_Vicky is gonna kill me._

"I'm gonna go run down to the Great Hall okay? I'll bring us up some food."

"'Kay. I'm kinda tired anyway."

Jane settled back in my bed, staring up at the posters of various Quidditch players on my ceiling, but not really seeing them. I grabbed the candy wrappers on my way out.

All I wanted to do was grab some dinner and get back to my room as quickly as possible. Once I got some food in my stomach I knew I would feel better. Physically, anyway. The emotional turmoil of the day would probably take longer to heal.

Especially since it only got worse.

Presenting: Big Terrible Event of the day number four! Drum roll, please.

My plan to just grab food and run was derailed when Charlotte saw me approach.

"Lizzy, there you are!"

She was sitting at the Gryffindor table, which meant she had been waiting for me. She looked different...

"Where have you been?"

"Sorry, Char, Jane's having an emotional crisis."

I gave her the abridged version, but I was exhausted enough that even those 20 seconds of talking wore me out enough to need a breather. I sat down to pile food onto the plate.

"Anything you need me to do?"

"No, she just needs time." Hopefully.

"Oh, but did you want to tell me something?" I asked, once I finally regained some presence of mind.

_Ooo, baked potatoes!_

"Oh, yeah!" Charlotte perked up, suddenly smiling. Something about it seemed a little forced, though... and when did she remove the purple dye from the ends of her hair?

"I'm interning at the Ministry over winter break!"

I blinked. "Oh. That's… neat. Came out of nowhere but…"

Why was something about this nagging in the back of my head?

"Yeah, I know it's sudden," Charlotte was still smiling.

_If I can just get the pounding in my head to stop for like two seconds I could think about this. _

"I'm really excited, though, it's a great opportunity!"

Why was this bothering me so much? God, my head really hurt.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Or like Collins appearing right at that second and leaning down to _kiss Charlotte on the cheek._

_This cannot be real. Maybe I'm hallucinating because of the pain in my head. Snap out of it, Lizzy._

"There's my darling Charlotte! Ah, Lizzy! Hello, there."

I'm pretty sure my jaw had dropped so much that it snapped off its hinges and was currently rolling around somewhere on the floor.

"Has my dear Charlotte told you the good news?"

His dear Charlotte wouldn't meet my eyes.

Collins went on without waiting for an answer.

"Yes, my _girlfriend_ is going to be interning alongside me at the Ministry! Isn't that exciting?"

"… very."

Charlotte finally looked up from the table. She was blushing, but she met my eye defiantly.

"Hope you have fun with that," I said tonelessly. I grabbed my now full plate and walked quickly out of the Hall. I squeezed my eyes shut really hard and then opened them, hoping to find I would wake up in my bed and that this entire day had been a terrible dream.

"Lizzy!"

No such luck.

Barely out the doors of the Hall, and Charlotte had caught up with me. I turned to look at her. I wasn't sure, but I think I managed to keep my expression completely neutral. Though this probably concerned her more than an angry expression would have.

_Good_.

"Lizzy, I know what you're thinking."

"Oh? What am I thinking?"

"Don't pull that tone with me Lizzy." Her voice was ice but her eyes were fire. "You think I'm settling. You think it's morally _wrong_ for me to go out with Bill."

"Look at that, you do know what I'm thinking. Guess you know _me_ better than I know _you_."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I never would have expected this of you, that's all."

"Not everyone is holding out for perfection, Lizzy!" Charlotte whispered, looking over her shoulder. Couldn't blame her. Her _boyfriend_ – even in my head I spat the word – had been known to show up unwanted.

"Bill is nice to me, alright? And he asked and I…" she trailed off, shrugging.

"You know he doesn't actually like you, right?" I finally dropped my neutral expression. My heart was threatening to beat a hole through my chest with the sudden adrenaline rush. My body was bracing itself for a fight. "He literally asked _me_ out a few hours ago!"

"Lizzy, keep your voice down!" She hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me further away from the door.

"I suppose you realize that, though, huh? You just want a boyfriend and anyone with a p-"

"So what if I want a boyfriend? You're not some special snowflake just because you don't!"

"And what the hell is this about the Ministry internship?" I spat, disregarding her last statement.

"It's a great opportunity!" She crossed her arms across her chest.

"But why the fuck would _you_ want it? You don't need a resume to go into Quidditch –"

"Again with this Quidditch delusion, Lizzy?" Her voice had risen too, and she looked around nervously. "You still think we're going into the Holyhead Harpies together, don't you?"

Lowering her voice again, her expression hardened. "You have to realize that I haven't had that child's dream running around in my head for a long time." _Child's dream?_ "It's the real adult fucking world out there Lizzy, and Quidditch cannot be my only skill! I'm trying to be prepared here."

_Oh… oh._

Suddenly Charlotte's dancing with Collins last night, which I had viewed as a selfless rescue of _me_, took on a whole new meaning.

"Oh. I see," I laughed a hollow laugh. "So not only are you using Collins because you want a _boyfriend_, but you're using him because you want a _stupid internship?!_ How long have you been planning this?"

She just glared, so I continued. "I can't believe you would _use _him like that!"

"Why do you care?" She snapped. I thought there might have been tears in her glare. I couldn't tell very clearly through mine. "You don't even like him!"

"Because it's a low thing to do, and you know it."

Her eyes widened briefly in shock, but that was her only response. Well, guess neither of us had anything else to say.

So, there I was. Standing only a few feet away from my best friend, yet it felt like the furthest apart we had ever been. It was like I was like seeing her through new eyes.

After a moment I broke the silence.

"You better get back to your precious boyfriend," I said, my voice flat again. I felt drained.

Charlotte might have felt the same way, judging by her deflated posture. But who knows, really? I was apparently not very good at reading her.

She took a deep breath, looked for a second as though she was going to say something, thought better of it, and then turned and walked back to the Great Hall without a look back.

I followed suit in the opposite direction.

* * *

**A/N: **These last couple chapters have ended up being a little longer than I anticipated. ALSO, shout out to Sailor Celaeno for the Silencio idea with Collins!


	13. Owl Post

Chapter Thirteen: Owl Post

The sound of a dish clattering to the ground. Loud girlish screams. Louder mom-ish screams. The rapid sound of footsteps crashing down the hall.

Yeah, I was back home alright.

"You're awake!"

"If you say so," I said. I'm not sure if Jane heard me, considering my voice was muffled by the blankets pulled over my face.

"_Jane! Lizzy! Mary! Breakfast!" _Mom's shrill voice carried from downstairs.

"Hurry up!" Came Mary's voice from just outside our door. "Pancakes today, and you know dad won't wait for you." Sound of her footsteps receding.

"Isn't it nice to be home?" I grumbled, reluctantly tossing my blankets off and literally tumbling out of bed.

_Oof_.

Jane sighed happily, either not noticing or ignoring my sarcasm. "Yeah. I missed mum and dad."

There was something sad in her voice that I had no trouble identifying. I picked myself up off the floor and walked over to the vanity where she sat brushing her already perfectly straight hair, and hugged her from behind.

"Try to ignore mum, alright?" I fixed her with a look in the mirror, and she nodded sadly. "It's not for long."

"She means well," Jane said weakly.

"All the same."

"_Girls!"_

"Coming mum!"

I pulled Jane up and we walked slowly down to the kitchen, both of us still in our pajamas, which was a testament to Jane's mental state. She normally never left our room in her pajamas, even just for breakfast.

Still, even with mom's "well-meaning" ranting, and the confined space with our younger sisters, being at home was a hell of a lot better than being at Hogwarts the past week. It was easily the most miserable week I had ever spent at the place.

…..

"Ham today," I announced, walking into the Gryffindor girl's dorm and setting the plate down on the end table next to the bed. Jane smiled her thanks and refused to meet my eyes. Meant she'd been crying again.

"What are you studying?" I asked gently, plopping down on the bed next to her.

"Um…" she glanced at the book open on her lap. "Transfiguration."

"Well, let's take a break." I slid the book out of her limp hands and sent it sailing across the room. She didn't even admonish me.

Jane had spent most of the week after that fateful Sunday in the Gryffindor common room whenever possible. For the first couple of days I couldn't even drag her out of my room except to go to classes. She basically went to class and some meals, and spent the remainder of the time holed up in the Gryffindor girl's dorm with a box of tissues. And her textbooks.

Even the broken-hearted couldn't avoid the necessity of studying for exams.

"You should really eat something," I insisted.

"I'm not hungry," she sighed.

Her hair was limp and tangled. It formed a messy curtain around her face when she lowered her head to her knees. She hadn't washed it since Sunday, and it was Tuesday. Maybe not too unusual for me, but Jane usually washed her hair every day.

"You should be. You skipped lunch too." Nothing. "Don't make me send you to the hospital wing."

She slowly lifted her head enough to send me a tiny glare, then huffed out a sigh again and started picking at the food on the plate.

"I don't want to push you Jane," I started, once she had taken a couple bites. "But talking about it might help."

If she sighed like that one more time I was going to personally hunt down Bingley and Caroline and probably Darcy, because I'm sure he had _something_ to do with this, and hurl every hex and jinx I knew at them. I might have already, if Jane hadn't insisted I not. I never saw any of them anymore, so it was easy to ignore them. If I actually had to see them, I'm not sure I could have restrained myself.

"I suppose."

It took more coaxing, but I finally got Jane to "let it out", as the saying goes. I was a firm believer in releasing your emotions. Quidditch was usually the outlet I used for letting shit out, but Jane didn't have that, so I went with the clichéd notion of talking about it.

Seemed to work for her. Once she started, I couldn't have stopped her if I wanted to.

"And he- he used to do this cute thing where he'd try to tuck my hair behind my ear, and it would never stay, so he'd pretend to argue with it and… god, it was so cute. I'd duck my head and pretend my hair was fighting back with him, and I guess it was stupid and silly but we… _I_ really loved that game. Once – once he tried to braid it, and he was just awful, it didn't even look like a braid!" She laughed, shaking her head. "And he said it was my hair's way of trying to sabotage him. He was- he was so –"

She broke off into laughing, hiccupping sobs, and it was all I could do not to join her. I thought they were adorable based off what I had seen, but based on the stories she had been telling me they were even cuter than I had known.

So what the hell had Caroline done to get him to break up with her?

I shook my head to try to get the thought out. It was no use dwelling on it. Jane was right, Bingley was his own person, and he had clearly made his decision. I just had to help Jane move on.

"Thanks, Lizzy, I do feel better," she said ten minutes later, once the sobs had finally let up.

She sure didn't look better, with renewed tear tracks down her face and her eyes red and swollen, but I'd take her word for it.

"Should I give you the 'plenty of fish in the sea' talk now?"

Jane chuckled softly. "Maybe later. Did you see Charlotte at dinner?"

"No."

I could feel Jane's eyes on me and studied my shoes vigorously. Thankfully, she went back to her dinner without comment.

Since Jane was spending all her time cooped up in Gryffindor tower, so was I. When I wasn't in class or at Quidditch practice, I would study alongside her, or talk to her about things ranging from the mundane to the Bingley, depending on whether she was in the mood for denial or not. The only time besides that where I got interaction with other people was during meals. I could usually drag Jane to breakfast, because she knew what time Bingley usually went down and could avoid seeing him, but it was harder to get her to lunch and dinner. So, I usually ended up bringing her back food.

Charlotte and I were no longer speaking. Whether this was intentional avoidance on her part, I can't say for sure, but it was on mine. Sometimes I'd see her at the Slytherin or Ravenclaw table with Collins and we'd make eye contact, but I always looked away quickly. I saw Bingley, Caroline and Darcy once or twice as well. None of them noticed me, and I was grateful for that.

I saw George Wickham.

That was interesting.

I was surprised at how little I felt when I saw him, considering how the week before my heart had fluttered every time I thought about him.

Frankly, there had been so much going on between then and the party, with Jane and Charlotte and Collins, that I'd almost forgotten about him not being at the party. But I was reminded of that Thursday, when I ran into him in the hallway between classes.

"George?"

"Hi – oh my god, Lizzy, hi!" He grinned when he saw me, and sauntered over from the other end of the hall. "I thought that was you!"

He stood really close, leaning his arm against the wall next to me.

I would have found that so attractive last week… why did it do nothing for me now?

"Well, you were right," I said simply. He frowned, and his arm slid off the wall. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Look, Lizzy, I should apologize for Sunday. I'm really sorry I couldn't make it, I really wanted to go, but you know, I thought at the last minute that it would probably be better to avoid a confrontation with Darcy. Better for everyone involved, you know?"

"Yeah, I do. It's alright, I get it."

I really did. He was probably right not to want to see Darcy again, and it wouldn't have made for a very fun party atmosphere for everyone else either. It was a good move on his part.

Kinda wish he had told me _before_ the party, but…

"Thanks, Lizzy, you're so cool! Other girls wouldn't be that understanding."

"Hmm." I had never been very fond of any line that included the words_ 'other girls'_

"Well, I have to get to class." I indicated down the hall behind me, and he nodded, but he didn't move yet, eyes scanning my face.

"We're cool right?"

"Yes, George!" I laughed, and punched him congenially in the arm. "We're cool! I just have to go to class!"

"Okay, okay!" He laughed too, and his hand grazed my shoulder as he turned and walked away. "See you around!" He called after me.

I walked backwards for a moment to wave at him, and when I turned around I almost ran into Professor Gardiner.

"Professor!" I exclaimed.

"Lizzy!" She matched my stunned tone with a teasing grin. "Come on, or we'll both be late."

Professor Gardiner was my favorite professor and an old family friend, so there were worse professors to almost run into.

Well, technically I think she was mom's second cousin or something, which explained why they knew each other. The two women couldn't possibly be more different. Her husband was a lot like dad, though.

"How is Ed?" I asked.

She gave me her 'not amused' look, even though she was.

"He's fine, Lizzy, but you know you should call him Mr. Gardiner when you're not at home. He misses seeing you around at the Ministry."

"Well, now that dad is retired I don't get a chance to go much."

"Still, you should stop by some time."

We arrived outside the classroom, and I was about to open the door when she stopped me.

"Lizzy?"

_Uh oh. That's her 'time to talk about something' voice. Does every person over the age of 30 have that voice?_

"Yes, Professor?"

"George Wickham didn't really strike me as your type."

I'm sure I looked as stunned as I felt, because she continued.

"Not that it's any of my business, but I've known you since you were a kid, and I thought you had more sense than to go after the bad boy type."

"He's not…" I trailed off. "He's not bad. He's just misunderstood."

She raised an eyebrow, reminding me so much of Charlotte that I had to fight a sudden flux of emotion.

Susie Warbaker side-stepped us to get into the classroom, eyeing us curiously. Probably assumed I was getting detention or something.

"Besides, I'm giving up on guys forever," I said after the door had closed. "Even the ones you think are good end up being spineless asshats who will just break your heart anyway."

"You didn't sound bitter at all, Lizzy, good job."

With all that sarcasm, was it any wonder she was my favorite teacher?

"How is Jane?"

My stunned look again.

"I know all," she said by way of explanation.

"You professors are worse gossips than the students."

She waited.

"Jane's… doing a little better. Still really depressed though. I'm worried about how long it might take her to snap out of her funk."

Gardiner nodded thoughtfully. "You know, when I was your age, I usually needed distractions to get through emotional times like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Ed is in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, you know, and they're not exactly _looking_ for an intern, but I'm sure if he asked they'd let Jane help out around the office. I know she's not exactly into sports but…"

"Oh."

I wasn't quite sure what I thought about that. Being productive _was_ very helpful to Jane in those times when she was truly devastated. But Ministry internships had kind of been sullied for me forever, thanks to the Charlotte and Collins fiasco.

"Just ask her about it, let me know if she thinks she might be interested."

With that, Gardiner opened the classroom door and walked inside. I followed after.

I suppose it didn't really matter what I thought. It was up to Jane. And I knew what she'd say.

…..

"So, Jane, you're sure this is what you want to do with your break?"

"Yes, mum, I'm sure. It will be a good learning opportunity."

"But you don't even _like_ sports."

"I like learning new things. Don't worry, mum, I've thought about it, I promise."

"But –"

"She's made her choice, dear."

Dad folded up the_ Prophet_ in time to catch the plate of food that came soaring his way.

"Alright, alright," mom grumbled, sending more plates over. Lydia narrowly avoided catching a pancake to the face, and I narrowly avoided chocking on my own laughter.

"I just don't understand why Ch-"

"Do you have any more syrup, mum? Kitty's hogging the only bottle!"

"What? Oh, here you go, Lizzy. No need to shout. I suppose you pushed Jane into this, did you? We all know who the _sports_ lover in this family is."

Jane had become much too interested in cutting up her breakfast, so I knew I hadn't interrupted mom in time to keep her from noticing.

_Bad enough she couldn't stop talking about Bingley before he and Jane had even met._

"And she'll have to be gone all day!" Mom continued. At least a Ministry rant was slightly better than a Bingley one. "Your hours are worse than your father's used to be, and you don't even get paid!"

"Afraid that's how it works, dear," dad sighed. "May we please talk about something else, now?"

"Lizzy could have interned over the break too, you know!"

_Lydia, I swear if you –_

"I guess not," dad muttered, shoveling his food down even faster.

"What's this, Lizzy?"

"Nothing, mum. _Shut up, Lydia_."

She stuck her tongue out at me from across the table, Kitty giggling next to her. Mary shook her head in disdain at their immaturity, but otherwise ignored them.

"The pancakes are really good, mum –"

"Billy Collins asked her to intern with him!" Lydia spoke over Jane's attempt at distraction.

"Billy Collins? You mean that short boy who –"

"Yes, and that's not all he asked her!"

"Lydia –"

"He also asked her to be his _girlfriend_!" Kitty burst out. Lydia turned to glare at her, and Kitty pressed her lips together.

"And she said no!" Lydia continued, smiling evilly at me.

"You little –"

_Is this because I laughed at that pancake thing? Does nobody understand the concept of a proportionate punishment for the crime?_

"You mean to tell me…" mom put down her fork, and leveled me with one of my least favorite glares. The one that meant this was not going to be let go any time soon. Dad started eyeing all the doors, looking for the best way out. Jane gave me a sympathetic look, and I braced myself for a headache.

"You mean to tell me that I could have had _two_ daughters with boyfriends this Christmas, and instead I have none?!"

"That's –"

"Lizzy, don't start something," came Jane's soothing whisper in my ear.

Biting my tongue, and biting back the urge to point out that _mom _was the one who was starting something here, I sat back down. I hadn't even noticed that I'd raised myself out of my chair.

"Billy Collins may not be as good as _Charles Bingley, _but you could have had a boyfriend Lizzy! At least Jane _tried_, you know, it wasn't _her_ fault Charles broke up with her, I'm sure."

I was more offended for Jane than for myself as mom continued ranting about ungrateful children, and how we were all going to die alone. I gripped the edge of the table to keep myself from saying anything.

Jane was right. It was best not to engage her even more. I tried to occupy myself with ideas for vengeance against Lydia, who sat across the table looking mightily pleased with herself.

If this sounds like a miserable hell hole to anyone, you would be right.

I was happy that Jane would be distracted the entire break, because I knew what kind of slump she could get into if she allowed herself to think about Bingley too much. And dear old mom wouldn't allow her to think of anything else if she stayed home the entire time.

But this meant I was facing a winter break without my twin sister to keep my sane. Dad is great, and I love him, but he's not much defense against mom and the little sisters.

Thankfully, the mail that morning brightened my prospects.

_Tap, tap, tap_.

"Oh, that's the window, I'll get it!" Jane said hastily, running up and over to the window. She was probably just trying to get away from the table, right? She couldn't be thinking it could be…

"Oh, Lizzy, I think it's Charlotte's owl."

"What?" I almost dropped my fork in surprise. "What would…"

Jane had opened the window, and the owl I definitely recognized as Charlotte's owl Harpy flew over to the table.

"Get that thing off the kitchen table!" Mom shrieked, but I had already caught Harpy on my arm.

"Relax, mum, she's not touching the table," I said, untying the scroll from her leg.

With what I could only describe as a disdainful look at mom, Harpy flew off over the nearest windowsill to await my answer. She turned her head in a dignified manner that had always amused me, and made my heart pang a little bit. I really did miss Charlotte…

Turning my attention back to the letter, I unrolled it slowly, somewhat hesitant about its contents. As far as I knew we still weren't speaking.

_Lizzy, _

_I know it isn't exactly your cup of tea, but my Ministry internship starts tomorrow, and I was wondering if you wanted to tag along? I couldn't be with you all the time, of course, but I know you used to love hanging out at the Ministry as a kid, and I could get you a visitor's pass for every day. There's apparently about an hour of downtime every day while Ms. DeBourgh has lunch, so you could keep me company then. _

_Let me know ASAP,_

_Charlotte_

_P.S. Bill knows I invited you, and he's fine with it, so don't worry about anything with that._

"Oh, do it, Lizzy!" Jane urged. I hadn't even noticed she had been reading over my shoulder, but we had always done that with each other's letters, ever since we were kids. "We'll probably be able to see each other sometimes!"

"What's this?"

Ignoring everyone else's confused looks, I re-read the letter. Guess we were pretending nothing had ever happened.

I really hadn't been looking forward to spending the entire break at home with my family… and I _did_ love the Ministry building. And I missed my best friend.

I could pretend nothing had ever happened, too, if that's what it took.

"So, mum, guess what…"

* * *

**A/N: **I know not a whole lot happened, but this was basically a transition chapter. And I'm also sorry it took a little while, I had a huge paper due that took up most of my writing time.


End file.
